Glass.
Book.
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H
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^^
THE ' f fCt
PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
A HAND-BOOK FOR
OVERLAND EXPEDITIONS.
WITH MAPS, ILLUSTRATIONS, AND ITINERARIES OF
THE PRINICIPAL ROUTES BETWEEN THE
MISSISSIPPI AND THE PACIFIC.
BY RANDOLPH B. MARCY,
CAPTAIN IT. S. AKMY.
rUBLISHED BT AUTHORITY OF THE WAR DEPAETMBNT.
NEW EDITI
NEW YORK:
HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHER
FF.\NKLIN 8QUAEE,
1 861
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight
hundred and sixty, by
HARPER & BROTHERS,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of
New York.
\\v
PREFACE.
A QUARTER of a centurj's experience in fron-
tier life, a great portion of which has been occu-
pied in exploring the interior of our continent,
and in long marches where I have been thrown
exclusively upon my own resources, far beyond
the bounds of the populated districts, and where
the traveler must vary his expedients to sur-
mount the numerous obstacles which the nature
of the country continually reproduces, has shown
me under what great disadvantages the ''''voy-
ageur^^ labors for want of a timely initiation into
those minor details of prairie-craft, which, how-
ever apparently unimportant in the abstract, are
sure, upon the plains, to turn the balance of suc-
cess for or against an enterprise.
This information is so varied, and is derived
from so many different sources, that I still find
every new expedition adds substantially to my
practical knowledge, and am satisfied that a good
VI PREFxVCE.
Prairie Manual will be for the young traveler
an addition to his equipment of inappreciable
value.
With such a book in his hand, he will be able,
in difficult circumstances, to avail himself of the
matured experience of veteran travelers, and
thereby avoid many otherwise unforeseen disas-
ters ; while, during the ordinary routine of march-
ing, he will greatly augment the sum of his com-
forts, avoid many serious losses, and enjoy a com-
parative exemption from doubts and anxieties.
He will feel himself a master spirit in the wilder-
ness he traverses, and not the victim of every
new combination of circumstances which nature
affords or fate allots, as if to try his skill and
prowess.
I have waited for several years, with the con-
fident expectation that some one more competent
than myself would assume the task, and give the
public the desired information ; but it seems that
no one has taken sufficient interest in the subject
to disseminate the benefits of his experience in
this way. Our frontier-men, although brave in
council and action, and possessing an intelligence
that quickens in the face of danger, are apt to
feel shy of the pen. They shun the atmosphere
of the student's closet; their sphere is in the
free and open wilderness. It is not to be won-
PREFACE. Vll
dered at, therefore, that to our veteran borderer
the field of literature should remain a " terra in-
cogniiar It is our army that unites the chasm
between the culture of civilization in the aspect
of science, art, and social refinement, and the pow-
erful simplicity of nature. On leaving the Mili-
tary Academy, a majority of our officers are at-
tached to the line of the army, and forthwith as-
signed to duty upon our remote and extended
frontier, where the restless and warlike habits of
the nomadic tribes render the soldier's life almost
as unsettled as that of the savages themselves.
A regiment is stationed to-day on the borders
of tropical Mexico ; to-morrow, the war-whoop,
borne on a gale from the northwest, compels its
presence in the frozen latitudes of Puget's Sound.
The very limited numerical strength of our army,
scattered as it is over a vast area of territory, ne-
cessitates constant changes of stations, long and
toilsome marches, a promptitude of action, and a
tireless energy and self-reliance, that can only be
acquired through an intimate acquaintance with
the sphere in which we act and move.
The education of our officers at the Military
Academy is doubtless well adapted to the art
of civilized warfare, but can not familiarize them
with the diversified details of border service ; and
they often, at the outset of their military career,
Vm PEEFACE.
find themselves compelled to improvise new ex-
pedients to meet novel emergences.
The life of the wilderness is an art as well as
that of the city or court, and every art subjects
its votaries to discipline in preparing them for a
successful career in its pursuit. The Military
Art, as enlarged to meet all the requirements of
border service, the savage in his wiles or the ele-
ments in their caprices, embraces many other
special arts which have hitherto been almost ig-
nored, and results which experience and calcula-
tion should have guaranteed have been improvi-
dently staked upon favorable chances.
The main object at which I have aimed in the
following pages has been to explain and illus-
trate, as clearly and succinctly as possible, the
best methods of performing the duties devolving
upon the prairie traveler, so as to meet their con-
tingencies under all circumstances, and thereby to
endeavor to establish a more uniform system of
marching and campaigning in the Indian coun-
try.
I have also furnished itineraries of most of the
principal routes that have been traveled across
the plains, taken from the best and most reliable
authorities; and I have given some information
concerning the habits of the Indians and wild
animals that frequent the prairies, with the secrets
PREFACE. IX
of the hunter's and warrior's strategy, which I
have endeavored to impress more forcibly upon
the reader by introducing illustrative anecdote.
I take great pleasure in acknowledging my in-
debtedness to several ofiicers of the Topographical
Engineers and of other corps of the army for the
valuable information I have obtained from their
official reports regarding the different routes em-
braced in the itineraries, and to these gentlemen
I beg leave very respectfully to dedicate my
book.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
The different Routes to California and Oregon. — Their re-
spective Advantages. — Organization of Companies. — Elec-
tions of Captains. — Wagons and Teams. — Relative Merits
of Mules and Oxen. — Stores and Provisions. — How packed.
— Desiccated and canned Vegetables. — Pemmican. — Anti-
scorbutics.— Cold Flour. — Substitutes in case of Necessity.
— Amount of Supplies. — Clothing. — Camp Equipage. —
Arms Page 15
CHAPTER II.
Marching. — Treatment of Animals. — Water. — Different meth-
ods of finding and purifying it. — Journadas. — Methods of
crossing them. — Advance and Rear Guards. — Selection of
Camp. — Sanitary Considerations. — Dr. Jackson's Report. —
Picket Guards. — Stampedes. — How to prevent them. — Cor-
raling Wagons 44:
CHAPTER III.
Repairing broken Wagons. — Fording Rivers. — Quicksand. —
Wagon Boats. — Bull Boats. — Crossing Packs. — Swimming
Animals. — Marching with loose Horses. — Herding Mules.
— Best Methods of Marching. — Herding and guarding Ani-
mals.— Descending Mountains. — Stomas. — Northers.... 71
CHAPTER IV.
Packing. — Saddles. — Mexican Method. — Madrina, or Bell-
mare. — Attachment of the Mule illustrated. — Best Method
XU CONTENTS.
of Packing. — Hoppling Animals. — Selecting Horses and
Mules. — Grama and bunch Grass. — European Saddles. —
California Saddle. — Saddle Wounds. — Alkali. — Flies. —
Colic. — Rattlesnake Bites. — Cures for the Bite Page 98
CHAPTER V.
Bivouacs. — Tente d' Abri. — Gutta-percha Knapsack Tent. —
Comanche Lodge. — Sibley Tent.— Camp Furniture. — Lit-
ters.— Rapid Traveling. — Fuel. — Making Fires. — Fires on
the Praii'ies. — Jerking Meat. — Making Lariats. — Making
Caches. — Disposition of Fire-arms. — Colt's Revolvers. —
Gun Accidents. — Trailing. — Indian Sagacity 133
CHAPTER VI.
Guides and Hunters. — Delawares and Shawnees. — Khebirs. —
Black Beaver. — Anecdotes. — Domestic Troubles. — Lodges.
— Similarity of Prairie Tribes to the Arabs. — Method of
making War. — Tracking and pursuing Indians. — Method
of attacking them. — Telegraphing by Smokes 183
CHAPTER VIL
Hunting. — Its Benefits to the Soldier. — Buffalo. — Deer. — An-
telope.— Bear. — Big-horn, or Mountain Sheep. — Their
Habits, and Hints upon the best Methods of hunting
them 230
Itineraries 269
Appendix 375
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
Map of Overland Eontes at end of volume.
Port Smith, Arkansas Frontispiece.
Swimming a Horse 78
Diagram for Measurements 81
Crossing a Stream 87
Grimsley's Pack-saddle 99
California Saddle 119
Half-faced Camp 134
Conical Bivonac ^ 135
Tent Knapsack 137
Comanche Lodge 140
Sibley Tent „ 143
Camp Chairs 14o
Camp Table— Field Cot 14G
Field Cot— Camp Bureau 148
Mess-chest 149
Horse-litter 151
Hand-litter 154
The Grizzly 167
Horse-tracks 178
Keep aAvay ! 209
Buffalo and other Tracks 231
Rifle-sights and Pouch 249
Calling up Antelopes 262
The Needles 270
Chimney Rock 285
Devil's Gate 287
Well in the Desert 308
Map of the Pike's Peak Gold Region 312
Sangre de Cristo Pass 316
San Francisco Mountain 325
Canon on Bill Williams's Fork 328
Artillery Peak 329
India-rubber Cloak 375
THE PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
CHAPTER I.
The dift'erent Routes to California and Oregon.— Their re-
spective Advantages. — Organization of Companies. — Elec-
tions of Captains. — Wagons and Teams. — Relative Merits
of Mules and Oxen. — Stores and Provisions. — How packed.
— Desiccated and canned Vegetables. — Pemmican. — Anti-
scorbutics.— Cold Flour. — Substitutes in case of Necessity. —
Amount of Supplies. — Clothing. — Camp Equipage. — Arms.
ROUTES TO CALIFORNIA AND OREGON.
Emigrants or others desiring to make the over-
land journey to the Pacific should bear in mind that
there are several different routes which may be
traveled with wagons, each having its advocates in
persons directly or indirectly interested in attract-
ing the tide of emigration and travel over them.
Information concerning these routes coming from
strangers living or owning property near them, from
agents of steam-boats or railways, or from other
persons connected with transportation companies,
should be received with great caution, and never
without corroborating evidence from disinterested
sources.
There is no doubt that each one of these roads
16 PKAIRIE TRAVELER.
has its advantages and disadvantages, but a judi-
cious selection must depend chiefly upon the fol«
lowing considerations, namely, the locality from
whence the individual is to take his departure,
the season of the year when he desires to com-
mence his journey, the character of his means of
transjDortation, and the point upon the Pacific coast
that he wishes to reach.
Persons living in the Northeastern States can,
with about equal ficility and dispatch, reach the
eastern terminus of any one of the routes they may
select by means of public transport. And, as ani-
mals are much cheaper upon the frontier than in the
Eastern States, they should purchase their teams at
or near the point where the overland journey is to
commence.
Those living in the Northwestern States, having
their own teams, and wishing to go to any point
north of San Francisco, will of course make choice
of the route which takes its departure from the
Missouri Iliver.
Those who live in the middle Western States,
having their own means of transportation, and going
to any pohit upon the Pacific coast, should take one
of the middle routes.
Others, who reside in the extreme Southwest, and
whose destination is south of San Francisco, should
travel the southern road running through Texas,
\vhi(;h is the only one practicable for comfortable
whiter travel. The grass upon a great portion of
ROUTES TO CALIFORNIA AND OREGON. 17
this route is green during the entire winter, and
snow seldom covers it. This road leaves the Gulf
coast at Poicder-horn^ on Matagorda Bay, which
point is difficult of access by land from the north,
but may be reached by steamers from New Orleans
five times a week.
There are stores at Powder-horn and Indianola
where the traveler can obtain most of the articles
necessary for his journey, but I would recommend
him to supply himself before leaving New Orleans
with every thing he requires with the exception of
animals, which he will find cheaper in Texas.
This road has received a large amount of travel
since 1849, is well tracked and defined, and, except-
ing about twenty miles of '•'• hog loalloio prairie)''
near Powder-horn, it is an excellent road for car-
riages and wagons. It passes through a settled
country for 250 miles, and within this section sup-
plies can be had at reasonable rates.
At Victoria and San Antonio many fine stores
will be found, well supphed with large stocks of
goods, embracing all the articles the traveler will
require.
The next route to the north is that over which
the semi- weekly mail to California passes, and which,
for a great portion of the way to New Mexico, I
traveled and recommended in 1849. This road
leaves the Arkansas River at Fort Smith, to which
point steamers run during the seasons of high water
in the winter and spring.
B
18 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
Supplies of all descriptions necessary for the over-
land journey may be procured at Fort Smith, or at
Van Buren on the opposite side of the Arkansas.
Horses and cattle are cheap here. The road, on
leaving Fort Smith, j)asses through the Choctaw and
Chickasaw country for 180 nules, then crosses Red
Kiver by ferry-boat at Preston, and runs through
the border settlements of northern Texas for 150
miles, within which distances supplies may be pro-
cured at moderate prices.
This road is accessible to persons desiring to
make the entire journey wdth their own transporta-
tion from Tennessee or Mississippi, by crossmg the
Mississippi River at Memphis or Helena, passing
Little Rock, and thence through Washington Coun-
ty, intersecting the road at Preston. It may also
be reached by taking steamers up Red River to
Shreveport or Jefferson, from either of which places
there are roads running through a populated coun-
try, and intersecting the Fort Smith road near
Preston.
This road also unites with the San Antonio road
at El Paso, and from that point they pass together
over the mountains to Fort Yuma and to San Fran-
cisco in California.
Another road leaves Fort Smith and runs up the
south side of the Canadian River to Santa Fe and
Albuquerque in New Mexico.
This route is set down upon most of the maps of
the present day as having been discovered and ex-
EOUTES TO CALIFOENIA AND OREGON. 19
plored by various i)ersons, but my own name seems
to have been carefully excluded from the list.
"Whether this omission has been intentional or not,
I leave for the authors to determine. I shall merely
remark that I had the command and entire direc-
tion of an expedition which in 1849 discovered,
explored, located, and marked out this identical
wagon road from Fort Smith, Arkansas, to Santa
Fe, New Mexico, and that this road, for the greater
portion of the distance, is the same that has been
since recommended for a Pacific railway.
This road, near Albuquerque, unites with Captain
"Whipple's and Lieutenant Beall's roads to California.
Another road, which takes its departure from
Fort Smith and passes through the Cherokee coun-
try, is called the " Cherokee Trail." It crosses
Grand River at Fort Gibson, and runs a little north
of west to the Verdigris River, thence up the valley
of this stream on the north side for 80 miles, when
it crosses the river, and, taking a northwest course,
strikes the Arkansas River near old Fort Mann, on
the Santa Fe trace ; thence it passes near the base
of Pike's Peak, and follows down Cherry Creek from
its source to its confluence with the South Platte,
and from thence over the mountains into Utah, and
on to California via Fort Bridger and Salt Lake
City.
For persons who desire to go from the Southern
States to the gold diggings in the vicinity of Cherry
Creek, this route is shorter by some 300 miles than
20 PRAIEIE TEAVELER.
that from Fort Smith via Fort Leavenworth. It is
said to be an excellent road, and well supplied with
the requisites for encamping. It has been traveled
by large parties of California emigrants for several
years, and is well tracked and defined.
The grass upon all the roads leavmg Fort Smith
is sufiiciently advanced to afford sustenance to ani-
mals by the first of April, and from this time until
winter sets in it is abundant. The next route on
the north leaves the Missouri River at Westport,
Leavenworth City, Atcheson, or from other towns
above, between either of which points and St. Louis
steamers ply during the entire summer season.
The necessary outfit of supplies can always be
procured at any of the starting-points on the Mis-
souri Kiver at moderate rates.
This is the great emigrant route from Missouri
to California and Oregon, over which so many
thousands have traveled within the past few years.
The track is broad, well worn, and can not be mis-
taken. It has received the major part of the Mor-
mon emigration, and was traversed by the army m
its march to Utah in 1857.
At the point where this road crosses the South
Platte River, Lieutenant Bryan's road branches off
to the left, leading through Bridger's Pass, and
thence to Fort Bridger. The Fort Kearney route
to the ecold rcGfion near Pike's Peak also leaves the
emigrant road at this place and runs n]i the South
Platte.
EOUTES TO CALIFOENIA AND OEEGON. 21
From Fort Bridger there are two roads that may
be traveled with wagons in the direction of Califor-
nia ; one passing Salt Lake City, and the other run-
ning down Bear River to Soda Sj^rings, intersecting
the Salt Lake City road at the City of Bocks.
Near Soda Springs the Oregon road turns to the
right, passmg Fort Hall, and thence down Snake
River to Fort Wallah-Wallah. Unless travelers
have business in Salt Lake Valley, I would advise
them to take the Bear River route, as it is much
shorter, and better in every resjoect. The road, on
leaving the Missouri River, passes for 150 miles
through a settled country where grain can be pur-
chased cheap, and there are several stores in this
section where most of the articles required by trav-
elers can be obtained.
Many j)ersons who have had much experience in
prairie travelmg prefer leaving the Missouri River
in March or April, and feeding grain to their ani-
mals until the new grass appears. The roads be-
come muddy and heavy after the S]3ring rains set
in, and by starting out early the worst part of the
road will be passed over before the ground becomes
wet and soft. This plan, however, should never be
attempted unless the animals are well supplied with
grain, and kept in good condition. They will eat
the old grass in the spring, but it does not, in this
climate, as in Utah and New Mexico, afford them
sufficient sustenance.
The grass, after the 1st of May, is good and
22 PEAIKIE TRAVELEK.
abundant upon this road as far as the South Pass,
from whence there is a section of about 50 miles
where it is scarce ; there is also a scarcity upon the
desert beyond the sink of the Humboldt. As large
niunbers of cattle pass over the road annually, they
soon consume all the grass in these barren local-
ities, and such as pass late in the season are likely
to suffer greatly, and oftentimes perish from starva-
tion. When I came over the road in August, 1858,
I seldom found myself out of sight of dead cattle
for 500 miles along the road, and this was an un-
usually favorable year for grass, and before the
main body of animals had passed for that season.
Upon the head of the Sweetwater River, and
west of the South Pass, alkaline springs are met
with, which are exceedingly poisonous to cattle and
horses. They can readily be detected by the yel-
lowish-red color of the grass growing around them.
Animals should never be allowed to graze near them
or to drink the water.
ORGANIZATION OF COMPANIES.
After a particular route has been selected to make
the journey across the plains, and the requisite num-
ber have arrived at the eastern terminus, their first
business should be to organize themselves into a
company and elect a commander. The company
should be of sufficient magnitude to herd and guard
animals, and for protection against Indians.
From 50 to 70 men, properly armed and equip-
ORGANIZATION OF COMPANIES. 23
ped, will be enough for these purposes, and any
greater number only makes the movements of the
party more cumbersome and tardy.
In the selection of a captain, good judgment, in-
tegrity of purpose, and practical experience are the
essential requisites, and these are indispensable to
the harmony and consolidation of the association.
His duty should be to direct the order of march,
the time of starting and halting, to select the camps,
detail and give orders to guards, and, indeed, to
control and superintend all the movements of the
company.
An obligation should then be drawn up and sign-
ed by all the members of the association, wherein
each one should bind himself to abide in all cases
by the orders and decisions of the captain, and to
aid him by every means in his power in the execu-
tion of his duties ; and they should also obligate
themselves to aid each other, so as to make the in-
dividual interest of each member the common con-
cern of the whole company. To insure this, a fund
should be raised for the purchase of extra animals
to supply the places of those which may give out
or die on the road ; and if the wagon or team of a
particular member should fail and have to be aban-
doned, the company should obligate themselves to
transport his luggage, and the captain should see
that he has his share of transportation equal with
any other member. Thus it will be made the in-
terest of every member of the company to watch
24 PEAIRIE TRAVELER.
over and protect the proj^erty of others as well as
his own.
In case of failure on the part of any one to com-
ply with the obligations imposed by the articles of
agreement after they have been duly executed, the
company should of course have the power to punish
the delinquent member, and, if necessary, to exclude
him from all the benefits of the association.
On such a journey as this, there is much to in-
terest and amuse one who is fond of picturesque
scenery, and of wild life in its most primitive aspect,
yet no one should attempt it without anticipating
many rough knocks and much hard labor ; every
man must expect to do his share of duty faithfully
and without a murmur.
On long and arduous expeditions men are apt to
become irritable and ill-natured, and oftentunes fan-
cy they have more labor imposed upon them than
their comrades, and that the person who directs the
march is partial toward his favorites, etc. That
man who exercises the greatest forbearance under
such circumstances, who is cheerful, slow to take
up quarrels, and endeavors to reconcile difiiculties
among his companions, is deserving of all praise,
and will, without doubt, contribute largely to the
success and comfort of an expedition.
The advantages of an association such as I have
mentioned are manifestly numerous. The animals
can be herded together and guarded by the differ-
ent members of the company m rotation, thereby
WAGONS AND TEAMS. 25
securing to all the oj^portunities of sleep and rest.
Besides, this is the only way to resist depredations
of the Indians, and to prevent their stampeding
and driving off animals ; and much more efficiency
is secm-ed in every respect, especially in crossing
streams, repairing roads, etc., etc.
Unless a systematic organization be adopted, it
is impossible for a party of any magnitude to travel
in company for any great length of time, and for all
the members to agree upon the same arrangements
in marching, camping, etc. I have several times ob-
served, where this has been attempted, that discords
and dissensions sooner or later arose which invari-
ably residted in breaking up and separating the
company.
When a captain has once been chosen, he should
be sustained in all his decisions unless he commit
some manifest outrage, when a majority of the com-
pany can always remove him, and j^ut a more com-
petent man in his place. Sometimes men may be
selected who, upon trial, do not come up to the an-
ticipations of those who have placed them in power,
and other men will exhibit, during the course of
the march, more capacity. Under these circum-
stances it wiU not be unwise to make a change, the
first election having been distinctly provisional.
WAGONS AND TEAMS.
A company having been organized, its first inter-
est is to procure a proper outfit of transportation
and supplies for the contemplated journey.
26 PRAIEIE TRAVELER.
Wagons should be of the simplest possible con-
struction— strong, light, and made of well-seasoned
timber, especially the wheels, as the atmosphere, in
the elevated and arid region over which they have
to pass, is so exceedingly dry during the summer
months that, unless the wood-work is thoroughly
seasoned, they will require constant repairs to pre-
vent them from falhng to pieces.
Wheels made of the bois-d'arc, or Osage orange-
wood, are the best for the plains, as they shrink but
little, and seldom want repairing. As, however,
this wood is not easily procured in the I^orthern
States, white oak answers a very good purpose if
well seasoned.
Spring wagons made in Concord, N'ew Hamp-
shire, are used to transport passengers, and the
mails upon some of the routes across the plams, and
they are said, by those who have used them, to be
much superior to any others. They are made of
the close-grained oak that grows in a high northern
latitude, and well seasoned.
The pole of the wagon should have a jomt where
it enters the hounds, to prevent the weight from
coming upon it and breakmg the hounds in pass-
ing short and abrupt holes in the road.
The perch or coupling-pole should be shifting or
movable, as, in the event of the loss of a wheel, an
axle, or other accident rendering it necessary to
abandon the wagon, a temporary cart may be con-
structed out of the remaining portion. The tu'es
WAGONS A]tfD TEAMS. 27
should be examined just before commencing the
journey, and, if not perfectly snug, reset.
One of the chief causes of accidents to carriages
upon the plains arises from the nuts coming off from
the numerous bolts that secure the running gear-
ing. To prevent this, the ends of all the bolts
should be riveted ; it is seldom necessary to take
them off, and when this is required the ends of the
bolts may easily be filed away.
Wagons with six mules should never, on a long
journey over the prairies, be loaded with over 2000
l^ounds, unless grain is transported, when an ad-
ditional thousand pounds may be taken, provided it
is fed out daily to the team. When grass consti-
tutes the only forage, 2000 jDOunds is deemed a suf-
ficient load. I regard our government wagons as
unnecessarily heavy for six mules. There is sufii-
cient material in them to sustain a burden of 4000
pounds, but they are seldom loaded with more than
half that weight. Every wagon should be furnish-
ed with substantial bows and double osnaburg cov-
ers, to protect its contents from the sun and weather.
There has been much discussion regarding the
relative merits of mules and oxen for prairie travel-
ing, and the question is yet far from being settled.
Upon good firm roads, in a populated country,
where grain can be procured, I should unquestion-
ably give the preference to mules, as they travel
faster, and endure the heat of summer much better
than oxen; and if the journey be not over 1000
28 PEAIKIE TEAVELEK.
miles, and the grass abundant, even without grain,
I think mules would be preferable. But when the
march is to extend 1500 or 2000 miles, or over a
rough sandy or muddy road, I believe young oxen
will endure better than mules ; they wiU, if properly
managed, keep in better condition, and perform the
journey in an equally brief sjoace of time. Besides,
they are much more economical, a team of six
mules costing six hundred dollars, while an eight-ox
team only costs upon the frontier about two hund-
red dollars. Oxen are much less liable to be
stampeded and driven off by Indians, and can be
pursued and overtaken by horsemen ; and, finally,
they can, if necessary, be used for beef.
In Africa oxen are used as saddle animals, and it
is said that they perform good service in this way.
This will probably be regarded by our people as a
very undignified and singular method of locomotion,
but, in the absence of any other means of transj^ort-
ation upon a long journey, a saddle-ox might be
found serviceable.
Andersson, in his work on Southwestern Africa,
says : " A short strong stick, of peculiar shape, is
forced through the cartilage of the nose of the ox,
and to either end of this stick is attached (in bridle
fashion) a tough leathern thong. From the extreme
tenderness of the nose he is now more easily man-
aged." " Hans presented me with an ox called
' Spring,' which I afterward rode upward of two
thousand miles. On the day of our departm*e he
WAGONS AND TEAMS. 29
mounted us all on oxen, and a curious sight it was
to see some of the men take their seats who had
never before ridden on ox-back. It is impossible to
guide an ox as one would guide a horse, for in the
attempt to do so you would instantly jerk the stick
out of his nose, which at once deprives you of every
control over the beast ; but by pulling hoth sides of
the bridle at the same time, and toward the side
you wish him to take, he is easily managed.* Your
seat is not less awkward and difficult ; for the skui
of the ox, unlike that of the horse, is loose, and, not-
withstanding your saddle may be tightly girthed,
you keep rocking to and fro like a child in a cradle.
A few days, however, enables a person to acquire a
certain steadiness, and long habit will do the rest."
" Ox traveling, when once a man becomes accus-
tomed to it, is not so disagreeable as might be ex-
pected, particularly if one succeeds in obtaining a
tractable animal. On emergencies, an ox can be
made to proceed at a tolerable quick pace; for,
though his walk is only about three miles an hour
at an average, he may be made to perform double
that distance in the same time. Mr. Galton once
accomplished 24 miles in four hours, and that, too,
through heavy sand !"
Cows will be fomid very useful upon long jour-
neys when the rate of travel is slow, as they furnish
milk, and in emergencies they may be worked in
* A ring instead of the stick put through the cartilage of the
nose would obviate this difficulty. — Author.
30 ' PRAIEIE TRAVELER.
wagons. I once saw a small cow yoked beside a
large ox, and driven about six hundred miles attach-
ed to a loaded wagon, and she performed her part
equally well with the ox. It has been by no means
an unusual thing for emigrant travelers to work
cows in their teams.
The inhabitants of Pembina, on Red River, work
a single ox harnessed in shafts like a horse, and they
transport a thousand pounds in a rude cart made
entirely of wood, without a particle of iron. One
man drives and takes the entire charge of eight or
ten of these teams upon long journeys. This is cer-
tainly a very economical method of transportation.
STORES AND PROVISIONS.
Supplies for a march should be put up in the most
secure, compact, and portable shape.
Bacon should be packed in strong sacks of a hund-
red pounds to each ; or, in very hot climates, put in
boxes and surrounded with bran, which in a great
measure prevents the fat from melting away.
If pork be used, in order to avoid transporting
about forty per cent, of useless weight, it should be
taken out of the barrels and packed like the bacon ;
then so placed in the bottom of the wagons as to
keep it cool. The pork, if well cured, will keep sev-
eral months in this way, but bacon is preferable.
Flour should be packed in stout double canvas
sacks well sewed, a hundred pounds in each sack.
Butter may be preserved by boiling it thoroughly,
STOKES AND PROVISIONS. 31
and skimming off the scum as it rises to the top un-
til it is quite clear like oil. It is then placed in tin
canisters and soldered up. This mode of preserv-
ing butter has been adopted in the hot climate of
southern Texas, and it is found to keep sweet for a
great length of time, and its flavor is but little im-
paired by the process.
Sugar may be well secured in India-rubber or
gutta-percha sacks, or so placed in the wagon as
not to risk getting wet.
Desiccated or dried vegetables are almost equal
to the fresh, and are put up in such a compact and
portable form as easily to be transported over the
plains. They have been extensively used in the
Crimean war, and by our own army in Utah, and
have been very generally approved. They are pre-
pared by cutting the fresh vegetables into thin slices
and subjecting them to a very powerful press, which
removes the juice and leaves a soHd cake, which,
after having been thoroughly dried in an oven,
becomes almost as hard as a rock. A small piece
of this, about half the size of a man's hand, when
boiled, swells up so as to fill a vegetable dish, and
is sufficient for four men. It is believed that the
antiscorbutic properties of vegetables are not im-
paired by desiccation, and they will keep for years
if not exposed to dampness. Canned vegetables
are very good for campaigning, but are not so port-
able as when put up in the other form. The desic-
cated vegetables used in our army have been pre-
pared by Chollet and Co., 46 Rue Richer, Paris.
32 PEAIRIE TEAVELEE.
There is an agency for them in Xew York. I re-
gard these compressed vegetables as the best prep-
aration for prairie travehng that has yet been dis-
covered. A single ration weighs, before being
boiled, only an omice, and a cubic yard contains
16,000 rations. In making up their outfit for the
plains, men are very prone to overload their teams
with a great variety of useless articles. It is a good
rule to carry nothing more than is absolutely neces-
sary for use upon the journey. One can not exjoect,
with the limited allowance of transportation that
emigrants usually have, to indulge in luxuries upon
such expeditions, and articles for use in California
can be purchased there at less cost than that of
overland transport.
The allowance of provisions for men in marching
should be much greater than when they take no
exercise. The army ration I have always found in-
sufficient for soldiers who perform hard service, yet
it is ample for them when in quarters.
The following table shows the amount of subsist-
ence consumed per day by each man of Dr. Rae's
party, in his spring journey to the Arctic regions
of North America in 1854 :
Pemmican 1.25 lbs.
Biscuit 0.25 "
Edward's presen-ed potatoes 0.10 "
Flour 0.33 "
Tea 0.03 "
Sugar 0.14 "
G rcasc or alcohol, for cookiug 0. 25 "
^.35 ibo.
STOEES AND PROVISIONS. 33
This allowance of a little over two pounds of the
most nutritious food was found barely sufficient to
subsist the men in that cold chmate.
The peinniican, which constitutes almost the en-
tire diet of the Fur Company's men ia the N'orth-
west, is prepared as follows : The buffalo meat is
cut into thin flakes, and hung up to dry in the sun
or before a slow fire ; it is then pounded between
two stones and reduced to a powder ; this powder
is placed in a bag of the animaPs hide, with the hair
on the outside ; melted grease is then pom'ed into it,
and the bag sewn up. It can be eaten raw, and
many prefer it so. Mixed with a httle flour and
boiled, it is a very wholesome and exceedmgiy nu-
tritious food, and will keep fresh for a long time.
I would ad\ise all persons who travel for any
considerable time through a country where they
can procure no vegetables to carry with them some
antiscorbutics, and if they can not transport desic-
cated or canned vegetables, citric acid answers a
good purpose, and is very portable. When mixed
with sugar and water, with a few drops of the es-
sence of lemon, it is difficult to distinguish it from
lemonade. Wild onions are excellent as antiscor-
butics ; also wild grapes and greens. An infusion
of hemlock leaves is also said to be an antidote to
scur^^.
The most portable and simple preparation of sub-
sistence that I know of, and which is used exten-
sively by the Mexicans and Indians ^ is called '' cold
C
34 PEAIEIE TEAVELER.
flour.'''' It is made by parching corn, and pounding
it in a mortar to the consistency of coarse meal ; a
little sugar and cinnamon added makes it quite
palatable. When the traveler becomes hungry or
thirsty, a little of the flour is mixed with water and
drunk. It is an excellent article for a traveler who
desires to go the greatest length of time upon the
smallest amount of trans23ortation. It is said that
half a bushel is sufficient to subsist a man thirty
days.
Persons undergoing severe labor, and driven to
great extremities for food, will derive sustenance
from various sources that would never occur to
them under ordinary circumstances. In passing
over the Rocky Mountains during the winter of
1857-8, our supplies of provisions were entirely
consumed eighteen days before reachmg the first
settlements in New Mexico, and Ave were obliged
to resort to a variety of exj^edients to supply the
deficiency. Our poor mules were fast failing and
dropping down from exhaustion in the deep snows,
and our only dependence for the means of sustain-
mg life was upon these starved animals as they be-
came unserviceable and could go no farther. We
had no salt, sugar, cofiee, or tobacco, Avhich, at a
time when men are performing the severest labor
that the human system is capable of enduring, was
a great privation. In this destitute condition we
found a substitute for tobacco in the bark of the
rod willow, which grows upon many of the mount-
STORES AND PEOVISIONS. 35
ain streams in that vicinity. The outer bark is
first removed with a knife, after which the inner
bark is scraped up into ridges around the sticks,
and held in the fire until it is thoroughly roasted,
when it is taken ofi" the stick, pulverized in the
hand, and is ready for smoking. It has the nar-
cotic properties of the tobacco, and is quite agreea-
ble to the taste and smell. The sumach leaf is also
used by the Indians in the same way, and has a
similar taste to the w^illow bark. A decoction of
the dried wild or horse mint, which we found
abundant under the snow, was quite palatable, and
answered instead of coffee. It dries up in that
climate, but does not lose its flavor. We suffered
^greatly for the want of salt; but, by burning the
outside of our mule steaks, and sprinkling a little
gunpowder upon them, it did not require a very
extensive stretch of the imagination to fancy the
presence of both salt and pepper. We tried the
meat of horse, colt, and mules, all of which were m
a starved condition, and of course not very tender,
juicy, or nutritious. We consumed the enormous
amount of from five to six pounds of this meat per
man daily, but continued to grow weak and thin,
until, at the expiration of twelve days, we were able
to perform but little labor, and were continually
craving for fat meat.
The allowance of provisions for each grown per-
son, to make the journey from the Missouri River
to California, should sufiice for 110 days. The fol-
36 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
lowing is deemed requisite, viz.: 150 lbs. of flour,
or its equivalent in hard bread ; 25 lbs. of bacon or
pork, and enough fresh beef to be driven on the
hoof to make up the meat component of the ration;
15 lbs. of coffee, and 25 lbs. of sugar; also a quan-
tity of saleratus or yeast j^owders for making bread,
and salt and pepper.
These are the chief articles of subsistence neces-
sary for the trij), and they should be used with econ-
omy, reserving a good portion for the western half
of the journey. Heretofore many of the Cahfor-
nia emigrants have improvidently exhausted their
stocks of provisions before reaching their journey's
end, and have, in many cases, been obliged to pay
the most exorbitant prices in making uj) the de-
ficiency.
It is true that if persons choose to j^ass through
Salt Lake City, and the Mormons happen to be in
an amiable mood, supplies may sometimes be pro-
cured from them ; but those who have visited them
well know how little reliance is to be placed upon
their hospitality or spirit of accommodation.
I once traveled with a party of New Yorkers en
route for California. They were perfectly ignorant
of every thing relating to this kind of campaigning,
and had overloaded their wagons with almost every
thmg except the very articles most important and
necessary ; the consequence w^as, that they exhaust-
ed their teams, and w^ere obliged to throw away the
greater part of their loading. Tliev soon learned
CLOTHING. 37
that Champagne, East India sweetmeats, olives,
etc., etc., were not the most useful articles for a
prairie tour.
CLOTHING.
A suitable dress for prairie traveling is of great
import to health and comfort. Cotton or linen fab-
rics do not sufficiently protect the body against the
direct rays of the sun at midday, nor against rains
or sudden changes of temperature. Wool, being a
non-conductor, is the best material for this mode of
locomotion, and should always be adopted for the
plains. The coat should be short and stout, the
shirt of red or blue flannel, such as can be found in
almost all the shops on the frontier : this, in warm
Aveather, answers for an outside garment. The pants
should be of thick and soft woolen material, and it
is well to have them re-enforced on the inside, where
they come m contact with the saddle, with soft
buckskin, which makes them more durable and com-
fortable.
Woolen socks and stout boots, coming up well at
the knees, and made large, so as to admit the pants,
will be found the best for horsemen, and they guard
against rattlesnake bites.
In traveling through deep snow during very cold
weather in winter, moccasins are preferable to boots
or shoes, as being more pliable, and allowing a freer
circulation of the blood. In crossing the Rocky
Mountains in the winter, the weather being intense-
38 PEAIEIE TEAVELEE.
ly cold, I wore two pairs of woolen socks, and a
square piece of thick blanket sufficient to coyer the
feet and ankles, over which were drawn a pair of
thick buckskm moccasms, and the whole enveloped
in a pair of buffalo-skin boots with the hair inside,
made open in the front and tied with buckskin
strings. At the same time I wore a pair of elkskin
pants, which most effectually prevented the air from
penetrating to the skin, and made an excellent de-
fense against brush and thorns.
My men, who were dressed in the regulation cloth-
ing, wore out their pants and shoes before we reach-
ed the summit of the mountains, and many of them
had their feet badly frozen in consequence. They
mended their shoes with pieces of leather cut from
the saddle-skirts as long as they lasted, and, when
this material was gone, they covered the entire shoe
with green beeve or mule hide, drawn together and
sewed upon the top, with the hair inside, which pro-
tected the upper as well as the sole leather. The
sewing was done with an awl and buckskin strings.
These simple expedients contributed greatly to the
comfort of the party ; and, indeed, I am by no means
sure that they did not, in our straitened condition,
without the transportation necessary for carrying
disabled men, save the lives of some of them. With-
out the awl and buckskins we should have been un-
able to have repaired the shoes. They should never
be forgotten in making up the outfit for a prairie
expedition.
CLOTHING.
39
We also experienced great inconvenience and
pain by the reflection of the sun's rays from the
snow upon our eyes, and some of the party became
nearly snow-blind. Green or blue glasses, inclosed
in a wire net-work, are an effectual protection to the
eyes ; but, in the absence of these, the skin around
the eyes and upon the nose should be blackened
with wet powder or charcoal, which will afford
great relief
In the summer season shoes are much better for
footmen than boots, as they are lighter, and do not
cramp the ankles ; the soles should be broad, so as
to allow a square, firm tread, without distorting or
pinching the feet.
The following list of articles is deemed a suffi-
cient outfit for one man upon a three months' expe-
dition, viz. :
2 blue or red flannel overshirts,
open in front, with buttons.
2 woolen undershirts.
2 pairs thick cotton drawers.
4 pairs woolen socks.
2 pairs cotton socks.
4 colored silk handkerchiefs.
2 pairs stout shoes, for footmen.
1 pair boots, for horsemen.
1 pair shoes, for horsemen.
3 towels.
1 gutta percha poncho.
1 broad-brimmed hat of soft
felt.
1 comb and brush.
2 tooth-brushes.
1 pound Castile soap.
3 pounds bar soap for washing
clothes.
1 belt-knife and small whet-
stone.
Stout linen thread, large nee-
dles, a bit of beeswax, a few
buttons, paper of pins^ and a
thimble, all contained in a
small buckskin or stout cloth
bag.
The foregoing articles, with the coat and over-
coat, complete the wardrobe.
40 TRAIKIE TRAVELEK.
CAMP EQUIPAGE.
The bedding for each person should consist of
two blankets, a comforter, and a pillow, and a gutta
percha or painted canvas cloth to spread beneath
the bed npon the ground, and to contain it when
rolled up for transportation.
Every mess of six or eight persons will require a
wrought-iron camp kettle, large enough for boiling
meat and making soup ; a coffee-j)Ot and cups of
heavy tin, with the handles riveted on ; tin plates,
frying and bake pans of wrought iron, the latter
for baking bread and roasting coffee. Also a mess
pan of heavy tin or wrought iron for mixing bread
and other cuHnary purposes; knives, forks, and
spoons ; an extra camp kettle ; tin or gutta percha
bucket for water — wood, being liable to shrink and
fall to pieces, is not deemed suitable ; an axe, hatch-
et, and spade will also be needed, with a mallet for
driving picket-pins. Matches should be carried in
bottles and corked tight, so as to exclude the
moisture.
A little blue mass, quinine, opium, and some ca-
thartic medicine, put uj) in doses for adults, will
suffice for the medicine-chest.
Each ox wagon should be provided with a cover-
ed tar-bucket, filled with a mixture of tar or resin
and grease, two bows extra, six S's, and six open
links for repairing chains. Every set of six wagons
should have a tongue, coupling pole, king-bolt, and
pair of hounds extra.
ARMS. 41
Every set of six mule wagons should be furnisliecl
with five pairs of hames, two double trees, four
whipple-trees, and two pairs of lead bars extra.
Two lariats will be needed for every horse and
mule, as one generally wears out before reaching
the end of a long journey. They will be found use-
ful in crossing deep streams, and in letting wagons
down steep hills and mountains ; also in repairing
broken wagons. Lariats made of hemp are the
best.
One of the most indispensable articles to the out-
fit of the prairie traveler is buckskin. For repair-
ing harness, saddles, bridles, and numerous other
purposes of daily necessity, the awl and buckskin
will be found in constant requisition.
ARMS.
Every man who goes into the Indian country
should be armed with a rifle and revolver, and he
should never, either in camp or out of it, lose sight
of them. When not on the march, they should be
placed in such a position that they can be seized at
an instant's warning ; and when moving about out-
side the camp, the revolver should invariably be
worn in the belt, as the person does not know at
what moment he may have use for it.
A great diversity of opinion obtains regarding
the kind of rifle that is the most efiicient and best
adapted to Indian warfare, and the question is per-
haps as yet very far from bemg settled to the satis-
42 PEAIEIE TEAVELER.
faction of all. A large majority of men prefer the
breech-loading arm, but there are those who still
adhere tenaciously to the old-fashioned muzzle-load-
ing rifle as preferable to any of the modern inven-
tions. Among these may be mentioned the border
hunters and mountaineers, who can not be persuad-
ed to use any other than the Hawkins rifle, for the
reason that they know nothing about the merits of
any others. My own experience has forced me to
the conclusion that the breech-loading arm possess-
es great advantages over the muzzle-loading, for
the reason that it can be charged and fired with
much greater rapidity.
Colt's revolving pistol is very generally admitted,
both in Europe and America, to be the most effi-
cient arm of its kind known at the present day. As
the same principles are mvolved in the fabrication
of his breech-loading rifle as are found m the pistol,
the conviction to me is irresistible that, if one arm
is worthy of consideration, the other is equally so.
For my own part, I look upon Colt's new patent
rifle as a most excellent arm for border service. It
gives six shots in more rapid succession than any
other rifle I know of, and these, if properly expend-
ed, are oftentimes sufficient to decide a contest ;
moreover, it is the most rehable and certam weapon
to fire that I have ever used, and I can not resist
the force of my conviction that, if I were alone upon
the prairies, and expected an attack from a body of
AEMS. 43
Indians, I am not acquainted with any arm I would
as soon have in my hands as this.
The army and navy revolvers have both been used
in our army, but the officers are not united in opin-
ion in regard to their relative merits. I prefer the
large army size, for reasons which will be given here-
after.
44 PRAIRIE TRAVELER,
CHAPTER n.
Marching. — Treatment of Animals. — Water. — Different meth-
ods of finding and purifying it. — Journadas. — Methods of
crossing them. — Advance and Rear Guards. — Selection of
Camp. — Sanitary Considerations. — Dr. Jackson's Report. —
Picket Guards. — Stampedes. — How to prevent them.^-Cor-
raling Wagons.
MARCHING.
The success of a long expedition through an un-
populated country depends mainly on the care tak-
en of the animals, and the manner in which they are
driven, herded, and guarded. If they are broken
down or lost, every thing must be sacrificed, and the
party becomes perfectly helpless.
The great error into which inexperienced travel-
ers are liable to fall, and which probably occasions
more suffering and disaster than almost any thing
else, lies in overworking their cattle at the com-
mencement of the journey. To obviate this, short
and easy drives should be made until the teams be-
come habituated to their work, and gradually in-
ured to this particular method of traveling. If ani-
mals are overloaded and overworked when they first
start out into the prairies, especially if they have
recently been taken from grain, they soon fall away,
and give out before reaching the end of the journey.
MARCHING. 45
Grass and water are abundant and good upon the
eastern portions of all the different overland routes ;
animals should not, therefore, with proj^er care, fall
away in the least before reaching the mountains, as
west of them are long stretches where grass and
water are scarce, and it requires the full amount of
strength and vigor of animals in good condition to
endure the fatigues and hard labor attendant upon
the passage of these deserts. Drivers should be
closely watched, and never, unless absolutely neces-
sary, permitted to beat their animals, or to force
them out of a walk, as this will soon break down
the best teams. Those teamsters who make the
least use of the whip invariably keep their annuals
in the best condition. Unless the drivers are check-
ed at the outset, they are very apt to fall into the
habit of flogging their teams. It is not only wholly
unnecessary but cruel, and should never be tolerated.
In traveling with ox teams in the summer season,
great benefit will be derived from making early
marches ; starting w^ith the dawn, and making a
" nooning" during the heat of the day, as oxen suf-
fer much from the heat of the sun in midsummer.
These noon halts should, if possible, be so arranged
as to be near grass and water, where the animals
can improve their time in grazing. When it gets
cool they may be hitched to the wagons again,
and the journey continued in the afternoon. Six-
teen or eighteen miles a day may thus be made with-
out injury to the beasts, and longer drives can never
46 PKAIEIE TEAVELER.
be expedient, unless in order to reacli grass or wa-
ter. When the requisites for encamping can not be
found at the desired intervals, it is better for the
animals to make a very long drive than to encamp
without water or grass. The noon halt in such
cases may be made without Avater, and the evening
drive lengthened.
WATER.
The scarcity of water upon some of the routes
across the plains occasionally exposes the traveler
to intense suffering, and renders it a matter of much
importance for him to learn the best methods of
guarding against the disasters liable to occur to
men and animals in the absence of this most neces-
sary element.
In mountainous districts water can generally be
found either in springs, the dry beds of streams, or
in holes in the rocks, where they are sheltered from
rapid evaporation. For example, in the Hueco
tanks, thirty miles east of El Paso, New Mexico,
upon the Fort Smith road, where there is an im-
mense reservoir in a cave, water can always be
found. This reservoir receives the drainage of a
mountain.
During a season of the year when there are oc-
casional showers, water will generally be found in
low places where there is a substratum of clay,
but after the dry season has set in these pools evap-
orate, and it is necessary to dig wells. The lowest
WATEE. 4Y
spots should be selected for this purpose when the
grass is green and the surface earth moist.
In searching for water along the dry sandy beds
of streams, it is well to try the earth with a stick
or ramrod, and if this indicates moisture water
will generally be obtained by excavation. Streams
often sink in hght and porous sand, and sometimes
make their appearance again lower down, where
the bed is more tenacious; but it is a rule with
prairie travelers, in searching for water in a sandy
country, to ascend the streams, and the nearer their
sources are approached the more water will be
found in a dry season.
Where it becomes necessary to sink a well in a
stream the bed of which is quicksand, a flour-bar-
rel, perforated with small holes, should be used as
a curb, to prevent the sand from caving in. The
barrel must be forced down as the sand is removed ;
and when, as is often the case, there is an under-
current through the sand, the well will be contin-
ually filled with water.
There are many indications of water known to
old campaigners, although none of them are abso-
lutely hifallible. The most certain of them are deep
green cottonwood or willow trees growing in de-
pressed localities ; also flags, water - rushes, tall
green grass, etc.
The fresh tracks and trails of animals converging
toward a common centre, and the flight of birds
and water-fowl toward the same points, will also
48 PEAIEIE TEAVELEE.
lead to water. In a section frequented by deer or
mustangs, it may be certain that water is not far
distant, as these animals drink daily, and they wiU
not remain long in a locality after the water has
dried up. Deer generally go to water during the
middle of the day, but birds toward evening.
A supply of drinking water may be obtained
during a shower from the drippings of a tent, or by
suspending a cloth or blanket by the four corners
and hanging a small weight to the centre, so as to
allow all the rain to run toward one point, from
whence it drops into a vessel beneath. India-rub-
ber, gutta-percha, or painted canvas cloths answer
a very good purpose for catching water durmg a
rain, but they should be previously well washed, to
prevent them from imparting a bad taste.
When there are heavy dews water may be col-
lected by spreading out a blanket with a stick at-
tached to one end, tying a rope to it, dragging it
over the grass, and wringing out the water as it
accumulates. In some parts of Australia this meth-
od is practiced.
In traversing the country upon the head waters
of Red River during the summer of 1852, we suf-
fered most severely from thirst, having nothmg but
the acrid and bitter waters from the river, which,
issuing from a gypsum formation, was highly
charged with salts, and, when taken into the stom-
ach, did not quench thirst in the slightest degree,
but^ on the contrary, produced a most pamful and
WATER. 49
burning sensation, accompanied witli diarrhoea.
During the four days that we were compelled to
drink this water the thermometer rose to 104° m
the shade, and the only relief we found was from
bathing in the river.
The use of water is a matter of habit, very mudhi
withm our control, as by practice we may discipline
ourselves so as to require but a small amount.
Some persons, for example, who place no restraint
upon their appetites, will, if they can get it, drink
water twenty times a day, while others will not
perhaps drink more than once or twice during the
same time. I have found a very effectual prevent-
ive to thirst by drinking a large quantity of water
before breakfast, and, on feeling thirsty on the
march, chewing a small green twig or leaf.
Water taken from stagnant pools, charged with
putrid vegetable matter and animalculge, would be
very likely to generate fevers and dysenteries if
taken into the stomach without purification. It
should therefore be thoroughly boiled, and all the
scum removed from the surface as it rises; this
clarifies it, and by mixing powdered charcoal with
it the disinfecting process is perfected. Water
may also be purified by placing a piece of alum in
the end of a stick that has been split, and stirring
it around in a bucket of water. Charcoal and the
leaves of the j^rickly pear are also used for the same
purpose. I have recently seen a compact and port-
able filter, made of charcoal, which clarifies the wa-
D
60 PEAIEIE TEAVELEE.
ter very effectually, and draws it off on the siphon
principle. It can be obtained at 85 West Street,
'Ne^Y York, for one dollar and a half. Water may
be partially filtered in a muddy pond by taking a
barrel and boring the lower half full of holes, then
filling it up with grass or moss above the upper
holes, after which it is placed in the pond with the
top above the surface. The water filters through
the grass or moss, and rises in the barrel to a level
with the pond. Travelers frequently drink muddy
water by placing a cloth or handkerchief over the
mouth of a cup to catch the larger particles of dii't
and anunalculse.
Water may be cooled so as to be quite palatable
by wrapping cloths around the vessels containing it,
wetting them, and hanging them in the air, where
a rapid evaporation will be j^roduced. Some of the
frontier-men use a leathern sack for carrying water ;
this is porous, and allows the necessary evaporation
without wetting.
The Arabs also use a leathern bottle, which they
call zemsemiyah. When they are en route they
hang it on the shady side of a camel, where the
evaporation keeps the water continually cool.
No expedition should ever set out mto the plains
without being supphed with the means for carrying
water, especially in an unknown region. If wooden
kegs are used they must frequently be looked after,
and soaked, m order that they may not shrink and
fall to pieces. Men, in marching in a hot climate,
WATEK. 51
throw off a great amount of perspiration from the
skin, and require a corresponding quantity of water
to supply the deficiency, and imless they get this
they suffer greatly. When a party makes an ex-
pedition into a desert section, where there is a
probability of finding no water, and intend to re-
turn over the same track, it is well to carry water
as far as convenient, and bury it in the ground for
use on the return trip.
" Captain Sturt, when he explored AustraHa, took
a tank in his cart, which burst, and, besides that, he
carried casks of water. By these he was enabled
to face a desert country with a success which no
traveler had ever attained to. For instance, when
returning homeward, the water was found to be
drying up from the country on all sides of him.
He was at a pool, and the next stage was 118
miles, at the end of which it was doubtful if there
remained any water. It was necessary to send to
reconnoitre, and to furnish the messenger Avith
means of returning should the pool be found dry.
He killed a bullock, skinned it, and, filling the skin
with water (which held 150 gallons), sent it by an
ox dray 30 miles, with orders to bury it and to re-
turn. Shortly after he dispatched a light one-horse
cart, carrying 36 gallons of water ; the horse and
man were to drink at the hide and go on. Thus
they had 36 gallons to su^^ply them for a journey
of 176 miles, or six days at 30 miles a day, at the
close of which they would return to the ox hide —
62 PRAIEIE TRAVELEK.
sleeping, in fact, five nights on 36 gallons of water.
This a hardy, well-driven horse could do, even in
the hottest climate."*
JOURNADAS.
In some localities 50 or 60 miles, and even greater
distances, are frequently traversed without water;
these long stretches are called by the Mexicans
'•'• journadas^^ or day's journeys. There is one in
l!^ew Mexico called Journada del Muerto^ which is
784 miles in length, Avhere, in a dry season, there is
not a drop of water ; yet, with proper care, this
drive can be made with ox or mule teams, and
Avithout loss or injury to the animals.
On arriving at the last camping-ground before
entering upon the journada, all the animals should
be as well rested and refreshed as possible. To m-
sure this, they must be turned out upon the best
grass that can be found, and allowed to eat and
drmk as much as they desire during the entire
halt. Should the weather be very warm, and the
teams composed of oxen, the march should not be
resumed until it begins to cool in the afternoon.
They should be carefully watered just j)revious to
being hitched up and started out upon the journada,
the water-kegs having been previously filled. The
drive is then commenced, and continued during the
entire night, with 10 or 15 minutes rest every two
hours. About daylight a halt should be made, and
* F. Galton's Art of Travel, p. 17 and 18.
JOUENADAS. 53
the animals immediately tm-ned out to graze for
two hours, during which time, especially if there is
dew upon the grass, they will have become consid-
erably refreshed, and may be put to the wagons
again and driven until the heat becomes oppressive
toward noon, when they are again turned out upon
a spot where the grass is good, and, if possible,
where there are shade trees. About four o'clock
P.M. they are again started, and the march con-
tinued into the night, and as long as they can be
driven without suffering. If, however, there should
be dew, which is seldom the case on the plains, it
would be well to turn out the animals several times
during the second night, and by morning, if they
are in good condition, the journada of VO or 80
miles will have been passed without any great
amount of suflering. I am supposing, in this case,
that the road is firm and free from sand.
Many persons have been under the impression
that animals, in traversing the plains, would perform
better and keep in better condition by allowing
them to graze in the morning before commencing
the day's march, which involves the necessity of
making late starts, and driving during the heat of
the day. The same persons have been of the opin-
ion that animals will graze only at particular hours ;
that the remainder of the day must be allowed them
for rest and sleep, and that, unless these rules be
observed, they would not thrive. This opinion is,
however, erroneous, as animals will in a few days
54 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
adapt themselves to any circumstances, so far as
regards their hom-s of labor, rest, and refreshment.
If they have been accustomed to work at particular
periods of the day, and the order of things is sud-
denly reversed, the working hours changed into
hours of rest, and vice versa^ they may not do as
well for a short time, but they mil soon accustom
themselves to the change, and eat and rest as well
as before. By maldng early drives during the
summer months the heat of the day is avoided,
whereas, I repeat, if allowed to graze before start-
ing, the march can not commence until it grows
warm, when animals, especially oxen, will suffer
greatly from the heat of the sun, and will not do
as well as when the other plan is pursued.
Oxen upon a long journey will sometimes wear
down their hoofs and become lame. When this
occurs, a thick piece of raw hide wi'apped around
the foot and tied firmly to the leg will obviate the
difficulty, provided the weather is not wet ; for if
so, the shoe soon wears out. Mexican and Indian
horses and mules will make long journeys without
being shod, as their hoofs are tough and elastic, and
wear away very gradually ; they will, however, in
time become very smooth, making it difficult for
them to travel upon grass.
A train of wagons should always be kept closed
upon a march ; and if, as often happens, a particular
wagon gets out of order and is obliged to halt, it
should be turned out of the road, to let the others
JOURNADAS. 55
pass while the injury is being repaired. As soon
as the broken wagon is in order, it should fall into
the line wherever it happens to be. In the event
of a wagon breaking down so as to requu-e import-
ant repairs, men should be immediately dispatched
with the necessary tools and materials, which should
be placed in the train where they can readily be got
at, and a guard should be left to escort the wagon
to camp after having been repaired. If, however,
the damage be so serious as to require any great
length of time to repair it, the load should be trans-
ferred to other wagons, so that the team which is
left behmd will be able to travel rapidly and over-
take the train.
If the broken wagon is a poor one, and there be
abundance of better ones, the accident bemg such
as to involve much delay for its repair, it may be
wise to abandon it, taking from it such parts as
may possibly be wanted in repairing other wagons.
ADVANCE AND REAR GUARDS.
A few men, well mounted, should constitute the
advance and rear guards for each train of wagons
passing through the Indian country. Their duty
will be to keep a vigilant look-out in all directions,
and to reconnoitre places where Indians would be
likely to He in ambush. Should hostile Indians be
discovered, the fact should be at once reported to
the commander, who (if he anticipates an attack)
will rapidly form his wagons into a circle or " cor-
56 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
ral^'' with the ammals toward the centre, and the
men on the inside, with their arms in readiness to
repel an attack from without. If these arrange-
ments be properly attended to, few parties of In-
dians will venture to make an attack, as they are
well aware that some of their warriors might pay
with their lives the forfeit of such indiscretion.
I know an instance where one resolute man, pur-
sued for several days by a large party of Comanches
on the Santa Fe trace, defended himself by dis-
mounting and pointmg his rifle at the foremost
whenever they came near him, which always had
the effect of turning them back. This was repeated
so often that the Indians finally abandoned the pur-
suit, and left the traveler to pursue his journey
without farther molestation. During all this time
he did not discharge his rifle ; had he done so he
would doubtless have been killed.
SELECTION OF CAMPS.
The security of animals, and, indeed, the general
safety of a party, in traveling through a country
occupied by hostile Indians, depends greatly upon
the judicious selection of camps. One of the most
important considerations that should influence the
choice of a locality is its capability for defense. If
the camp be pitched beside a stream, a concave
bend, where the Avater is deep, with a soft alluvial
bed inclosed by higli and abrupt banks, will be the
most defensible, and all the more should tlie con-
SELECTION OF CAMPS. 57
cavity form a peninsula. The advantages of such a
position are obvious to a soldier's eye, as that part
of the encampment inclosed by the stream is natu-
rally secure, and leaves only one side to be defended.
The concavity of the bend will enable the defending
party to cross its fire in case of attack from the ex-
posed side. The bend of the stream will also form
an excellent corral in w^hich to secure animals from
a stampede, and thereby diminish the number of
sentmels needful around the camp. In herding ani-
mals at night within the bend of a stream, a spot
should be selected where no clumps of brush grow
on the side where the animals are posted. If thick-
ets of brush can not be avoided, sentinels should be
placed near them, to guard agamst Indians, Avho
might take advantage of this cover to steal animals,
or shoot them down with arrows, before their pres-
ence were known.
In camping away from streams, it is advisable to
select a position in which one or more sides of the
encampment shall rest upon the crest of an abrupt
hill or bluff. The prairie Indians make their cameos
upon the summits of the hills, whence they can see
in all directions, and thus avoid a surj^rise.
The line of tents should be pitched on that side
of the camp most exposed to attack, and sentinels
so posted that they may give alarm in time for the
main body to rally and prepare for defense.
58 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
SANITAKY CONSIDERATIONS.
When camping near rivers and lakes surrounded
by large bodies of timber and a luxuriant vegeta-
tion, which produces a great amount of decomposi-
tion and consequent exhalations of malaria, it is im-
portant to ascertain what localities Avill be the least
hkely to generate disease, and to affect the sanitary
condition of men occupying them.
This subject has been thoroughly examined by
Dr. Robert Johnson, Inspector General of Hospitals
in the English army in 1845 ; and, as his conclusions
are deduced from enlarged experience and extended
research, they should have great weight. I shall
therefore make no apology for introducing here a
few extracts from his interesting report touching
upon this subject :
" It is consonant with the experience of military
people, in all ages and in all countries, that camp
diseases most abound near the muddy banks of
large rivers, near swamps and ponds, and on grounds
which have been recently stripped of their Avoods.
The fact is precise, but it has been set aside to make
way for an opinion. It was assumed, about half
a century since, by a celebrated army physician,
that camp diseases originated from causes of putre-
faction, and that putrefaction is connected radically
with a stagnant condition of the air.
" As streams of air usually proceed along rivers
with more certainty and force than in other places,
SANITARY CONSIDERATIONS. 69
and as there is evidently a more certain movement
of air, that is, more wind on oj^en grounds than
among woods and thickets, this sole considera-
tion, without any regard to experience, influenced
opinion, gave currency to the destructive maxim
that the banks of rivers, open groimds, and exposed
heights are the most eligible situations for the en-
campment of troops. They are the best ventilated ;
they must, if the theory be true, be the most
healthy.
" The fact is the reverse ; but, demonstrative as
the fact may be, fashion has more mfluence than
multiplied examples of fact experimentally proved.
Encampments are still formed m the vicinity of
swamps, or on grounds which are newly cleared
of their woods, in obedience to theory, and contrary
to fact.
" It is prudent, as now said, in selecting ground
for encampment^ to avoid the immediate vicinity
of swamps and rivers. The air is there noxious ;
but, as its influence thence originating does not
extend beyond a certain limit, it is a matter of
some importance to ascertain to what distance it
does extend ; because, if circumstances do not per-
mit that the encampment be removed out of its
reach, prudence directs that remedies be applied to
weaken the force of its pernicious impressions.
" The remedies consist in the interposition of ris-
ing grounds, woods, or such other impediments as
serve to break the current in its progress from the
60 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
noxious source. It is an obvious fact, that the
noxious cause, or the exhalation in which it is en-
veloped, ascends as it traverses the adjacent plain,
and that its impression is augmented by the adven-
titious force with which it strikes upon the subject
of its action.
" It is thus that a position of three hundi*ed paces
from the margin of a swamp, on a level with the
swamp itself, or but moderately elevated, is less
unhealthy than one at six hundred on the same line
of direction on an exposed height. The cause here
strikes fully in its ascent ; and as the atmosphere
has a more varied temperature, and the succussions
of the air are more irreorular on the heis^ht than on
the plain, the impression is more forcible, and the
noxious effect more strongly marked. In accord
with this principle, it is almost uniformly true,
coeteris paribus^ that diseases are more common,
at least more violent, in broken, irregular, and hilly
countries, where the temperature is Uable to sudden
changes, and where blasts descend with fury from
the mountains, than in large and extensive inclined
plains under the action of equal and gentle breezes
only.
" From this fact it becomes an object of the first
consideration, in selecting ground for encampment,
to guard against the impression of strong winds on
their own account, independently of their proceed-
ing from swamps, rivers, and noxious soils.
" It is proved l)y experience, in armies as in civil
SANITAEY CONSIDERATIONS. 61
life, that injury does not often result from simple
wetting with rain when the person is fairly exposed
in the open air, and habitually inured to the con-
tingencies of weather. Irregular troops, which act
in the advanced line of armies, and which have no
other shelter from weather than a hedge or tree,
rarely experience sickness — never, at least, the sick-
ness which proceeds from contagion; hence it is
inferred that the shelter of tents is not necessary
for the preservation of health. Irregular troOps,
with contingent shelter only, are comparatively
healthy, while sickness often rages with violence in
the same scenae, among those who have all the j^ro-
tection against the inclemencies of weather which
can be furnished by canvas. The fact is verified
by experience, and the cause of it is not of difficult
explanation. When the earth is damp, the action
of heat on its surface occasions the interior moisture
to ascend. The heat of the bodies of a given num-
ber of men, confined within a tent of a given dimen-
sion, raises the temperature within the tent beyond
the temperature of the common air outside the
tent. The ascent of moisture is thus encouraged,
generally by a change of temperature in the tent,
and more particularly by the immediate or near
contact of the heated bodies of the men with the
surface of the earth. Moisture, as exhaled from the
earth, is considered by observers of fact to be a
cause which acts mjuriously on health. Produced
artificially by the accumulation of individuals in
62 PKAIEIE TRAVELEE.
close tents, it may reasonably be supposed to pro-
duce its usual effects on armies. A cause of con-
tagious influence, of fatal effect, is thus generated
by accumulating soldiers in close and crowded tents,
under the pretext of defending them from the in-
clemencies of the weather ; and hence it is that the
means which are provided for the preservation of
health are actually the causes of destruction of life.
. " There are two causes which more evidently act
upon the health of troops in the field than any other,
namely, moisture exhaled direct from the surface of
the earth in undue quantity, and emanations of a
peculiar character arising from diseased action in
the animal system in a mass of men crowded to-
gether. These are principal, and they are import-
ant. The noxious effects may be obviated, or rather
the noxious cause will not be generated, under the
following arrangement, namely, a carpet of paint-
ed canvas for the floor of the tent ; a tent with a
hght roof, as defense against perpendicular rain or
the rays of a vertical sun ; and with side waUs of
moderate height, to be employed only against driv-
ing rains. To the first there can be no objection i
it is useful, as preventing the exhalations of moist'
ure from the surface of the earth ; it is convenient^
as always ready ; and it is economical, as less ex^
pensive than straw. It requires to be fresh painted
only once a year."
The effect of crowding men together in close
quarters, illy ventilated, was shown in the prisons
SAJflTARY CONSIDERATIONS. 63
of Hindostan, where at one time, when the English
held sway, they had, on an average, 40,000 natives
in confinement; and this unfortunate population
was every year liberated by death in proportions
varying from 4000 to 10,000. The annual average
mortality by crowded and unventilated barracks in
the English army has sometimes been enormous, as
at Barrackpore, where it seldom fell far short of
one tenth ; that is to say, its garrisons were every
year decimated by fever or cholera, while the offi-
cers and other inhabitants, who lived in well-venti-
lated houses, did not find the place particularly un-
healthy.
The same fact of general exemption among the
officers, and complete exemption among their wives,
was observed m the marching regiments, which
lost by cholera from one tenth to one sixth of the
enlisted men, who were packed together at night ten
and twelve in a tent, with the thermometer at 96°.
The dimensions of the celebrated Black Hole of Cal-
cutta— where in 1756,123 prisoners out of 140 died
by carbonic acid in one night — was but eighteen
feet square, and with but two small windows. Most
of the twenty-three who survived until morning
were seized with putrid fever and died very soon
afterward.
On the 1st of December, 1848, 150 deck passen-
gers of the steamer Londonderry were ordered be-
low by the captain and the hatches closed upon
them : seventy were found dead the next morning.
64 PRAIEIE TRAVELER.
The streams which mtersect our great prairies
have but a very sparse growth of Avood or vegeta-
tion upon their banks, so that one of the fundament-
al causes for the generation of noxious malaria does
not, to any great extent, exist here, and I beHeve
that persons may encamp with impunity directly
upon their banks.
PICKET GUAKDS.
When a party is sufficiently strong, a picket guard
sliould be stationed during the night some tAvo or
three hundred yards in advance of the point which
is most open to assault, and on low ground, so that
an enemy approaching over the surrounding higher
country can be seen agamst the sky, while the sen-
tinel himself is screened from observation. These
sentinels should not be allowed to keej) fires, unless
they are so placed that they can not be seen from a
distance.
During the day the pickets should be posted on
the summits of the highest eminences in the vicinity
of camp, with instructions to keep a vigilant look-
out in all directions ; and, if not within hailing dis-
tance, they should be instructed to give some well-
understood telegraphic signals to mform those in
camp wlien there is danger. For exam^Dle, should
Indians be discovered approaching at a great dis-
tance, they may raise their caps ui)on the muzzles
of their pieces, and at the same time walk around in
a circle ; Avhile, if the Indians are near and mo\ang
PICKET GUARDS. 65
rajjidly, the sentinel may swing his cap and run
around rapidly in a circle. To indicate the direc-
tion from which the Indians are approaching, he
may direct his piece toward them, and walk in the
same line of direction.
Should the pickets suddenly discover a party of
Indians A^ery near, and with the apparent intention
of making an attack, they should fire their pieces to
give the alarm to the camp.
These telegraphic signals, when well understood
and enforced, will tend greatly to facilitate the com-
munication of intelligence throughout the camp, and
conduce much to its security.
The picket guards should receive minute and
strict orders regarding their duties under all circum-
stances, and these orders should be distinctly un-
derstood by every one in the camp, so that no false
alarms will be created. All persons, with the ex-
ception of the guards and herders, should after dark
be confined to the limits of the chain of sentinels, so
that, if any one is seen approaching from without
these limits, it will be known that they are stran-
gers.
As there will not often be occasion for any one to
pass the chain of pickets during the night, it is a
good rule (especially if the party is small), when a
picket sentinel discovers any one lurking about his
post from without, if he has not himself been seen,
to quietly withdraw and report the fact to the com-
mander, who can wake his men and make his ar-
E
66 PRAIEIE TRAVELER.
rangements to repel an attack and protect his ani-
mals. If, however, the man upon the picket has been
seen, he should distinctly challenge the approaching
party, and if he receives no answer, fire, and retreat
to camp to report the fact.
It is of the utmost importance that picket guards
should be wide awake, and allow nothing to escape
their observation, as the safety of the whole camp
is involved. During a dark night a man can see
better himself, and is less exposed to the view of
others, when in a sittmg posture than when stand-
ing up or moving about. I would therefore rec-
ommend this practice for night pickets.
Horses and mules (especially the latter), whose
senses of hearing and smelling are probably more
acute than those of almost any other animals, will
discover any thing strange or unusual about camp
much sooner than a man. They indicate this by
turning in the direction from whence the object is
approaching, holding their heads erect, projecting
their ears forward, and standing in a fixed and at-
tentive attitude. They exhibit the same signs of
alarm when a wolf or other wild animal ajDproaches
the camp ; but it is always wise, when they show
fear in this manner, to be on the alert till the cause
is ascertained.
Mules are very keenly sensitive to danger, and, in
passing along over the prairies, they will often de-
tect the proximity of strangers long before they are
discovered by their riders. Nothing seems to es-
PICKET GUARDS. 67
cape their observation ; and I have heard of several
instances where they have given timely notice of
the approach of hostile Indians, and thus prevented
stampedes.
Dogs are sometimes good sentinels, but they often
sleep sound, and are not easily awakened on the ap-
proach of an enemy.
In marching with large force, unless there is a
guide who knows the country, a small party should
always be sent in advance to search for good camp-
ing-places, and these parties should be dispatched
early enough to return and meet the main command
in the event of not finding a camping-place within
the limits of the day's march. A regiment should
average upon the prairies, where the roads are good,
about eighteen miles a day, but, if necessary, it can
make 25 or even 30 miles. The advance party
should therefore go as far as the command can
march, provided the requisites for camping are not
found within that distance. The article of first im-
portance in campaigning is grass, the next water,
and the last fuel.
It is the practice of most persons traveling with
large ox trains to select their camps upon the sum-
mit of a hill, where the surrounding country in all
directions can be seen. Their cattle are then con-
tinually within view from the camp, and can be
guarded easily.
When a halt is made the wagons are " corraled,"
as it is called, by bringing the two front ones near
68 PEAIRIE TRAVELER.
and parallel to each other. The two next are then
driven up on the outside of these, with the front
Avheels of the former touching the rear wheels of
the latter, the rear of the wagons turned out upon
the circumference of the circle that is being formed,
and so on until one half the circle is made, when
the rear of the wagons are turned in to. complete
the circle. An opening of about twenty yards
should be left between the last two wagons for
animals to pass in and out of the corral, and this
may be closed with two ropes stretched between
the wagons. Such a corral forms an excellent and
secure barricade against Indian attacks, and a good
inclosure for cattle while they are bemg yoked ; in-
deed, it is indispensable.
STAMPEDES.
Inclosures are made in the same manner for horses
and mules, and, in case of an attempt to stampede
them, they should be driven with all possible dis-
patch into the corral, where they will be perfectly
secure. A " stampede" is more to be dreaded upon
the plains than almost any disaster that can happen.
It not unfrequently occurs that very many animals
are irretrievably lost in this way, and the objects of
an expedition thus defeated.
The Indians are perfectly familiar with the habits
and disposition of horses and mules, and with the
most effectual methods of terrifying them. Previ-
ous to attempting a stampede, they provide them-
STAMPEDES. 69
selves with rattles and other means for making
frightful noises; thus prepared, they approach as
near the herds as possible without being seen, and
suddenly, with their horses at full speed, rush in
among them, making the most hideous and un-
earthly screams and noises to terrify them, and
drive them off before their astonished owners are
able to rally and secure them.
As soon as the animals are started the Indians
divide their party, leaving a portion to hurry them
off rapidly, while the rest linger some distance in
the rear, to resist those who may pursue them.
Horses and mules will sometimes, especially in
the night, become frightened and stampeded from
very slight causes. A wolf or a deer passing
through a herd will often alarm them, and cause
them to break away in the most frantic manner.
Upon one occasion in the Choctaw country, my
entire herd of about two hundred horses and mules
all stampeded in the night, and scattered over the
country for many miles, and it was several days be-
fore I succeeded in collecting them together. The
alarm occurred while the herders were walking
among the animals, and without any perceptible
cause. The foregoing facts go to show how im-
portant it is at all times to keep a vigilant guard
over animals. In the vicinity of hostile Indians,
where an attack may be anticipated, several good
horses should be secured in such positions that they
will continually be in readiness for an emergency
VO PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
of this kind. The herdsmen should have their
horses in hand, saddled and bridled, and ready at
an instant's notice to spring upon their backs and
drive the herds into camp. As soon as it is dis-
covered that the animals have taken fright, the
herdsmen should use their utmost endeavors to
turn them in the direction of the camp,, and this
can generally be accomplished by riding the bell
mare in front of the herd, and gradually turning
her toward it, and slackening her speed as the fa-
miUar objects about the camp come in sight. This
usually tends to quiet their alarm.
BEPAIKS OF ACCIDENTS. 71
CHAPTER in.
Repairing broken Wagons. — Fording Rivers. — Quicksand. —
Wagon Boats. — Bull Boats. — Crossing Packs. — Swimming
Animals. — Marching with loose Horses. — Herding Mules.
— Best Methods of Marching. — Herding and guarding Ani-
mals.— Descending Mountains. — Storms. — Northers.
REPAIRS OF ACCIDENTS.
The accidents most liable to happen to wagons
on the plains arise from the great dryness of the
atmosphere, and the consequent shrmkage and con-
traction of the wood- work in the wheels, the tu-es
working loose, and the wheels, in passing over sid-
ling ground, oftentimes falling down and breaking
all the spokes where they enter the hub. It there-
fore becomes a matter of absolute necessity for the
prairie traveler to devise some means of repairing
such damages, or of guarding against them by the
use of timely expedients.
The wheels should be frequently and closely ex-
amined, and whenever a tire becomes at all loose
it should at once be tightened with pieces of hoop-
iron or wooden wedges driven by twos simulta-
neously from opposite sides. Another remedy for
the same thing is to take off the wheels after en-
camping, sink them in water, and allow them to re-
main over niecht. This swells the wood, but is only
72 PKAIKIE TKAVELER.
temporary, requiring frequent repetition ; and, after
a time, if the wheels have not been made of thor-
oughly seasoned timber, it becomes necessary to
reset the tires in order to guard against their de-
struction by falling to pieces and breaking the
spokes.
If the tires run off near a blacksmith's shop, or
if there be a traveling forge with the train, they
may be tied on with raw hide or ropes, and thus
driven to the shop or camp. When a rear wheel
breaks down upon a march, the best method I know
of for taking the vehicle to a place where it can be
repaired is to take off the damaged wheel, and place
a stout j)ole of three or four inches in diameter un-
der the end of the axle, outside the wagon-bed, and
extending forward above the front wheel, where it
is firmly lashed with ropes, while the other end of
the pole runs six or eight feet to the rear, and drags
u-pon the ground. The pole must be of such length
and mclination that the axle shall be raised and re-
tained in its proper horizontal position, when it can
be driven to any distance that may be desired.
The wagon should be relieved as much as practica-
ble of its loading, as the pole dragging upon the
ground will cause it to run heavily.
When a front wheel breaks down, the expedient
just mentioned can not be apphed to the front axle,
but the two rear wheels may be taken off and
placed upon this axle (they will always fit), while
the sound front wheel can be substituted ui>on one
KEPAIKS OF ACCIDENTS. 73
side of the rear axle, after which the pole may be
applied as before described. This plan I have
adopted upon several different occasions, and I can
vouch for its efficacy.
The foregoing facts may appear very simple and
unimportant in themselves, but blacksmiths and
wheelwrights are not met with at every turn of the
roads upon the prairies ; and in the wilderness, where
the traveler is dependent solely upon his own re-
sources, this kind of information will be found high-
ly useful.
When the spokes in a wheel shrink more than
the felloes, they work loose in the hub, and can not
be tightened by wedging. The only remedy m
such cases is to cut the felloe with a saw on oppo-
site sides, taking out two pieces of such dimensions
that the reduced circumference will draw back the
spokes into their proper places and make them snug.
A thin wagon-bow, or barrel-hoops, may then be
wrapped around the outside of the felloe, and se-
cured with small nails or tacks. This increases the
diameter of the wheel, so that when the tire has
been heated, put on, and cooled, it forces back the
spokes into their true places, and makes the wheel
as sound and strong as it ever was. This simple
process can be executed in about half an hour if
there be fuel for heating, and obviates the necessity
of cutting and welding the tire. I would recom-
mend that the tires should be secured with bolts
and nuts, which will prevent them from running
74 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
off when they work loose, and, if they have been
cut and reset, they should be well tried with a ham-
mer where they are welded to make sure that the
junction is sound.
FORDING RIVERS.
Many streams that intersect the different routes
across our continent are broad and shallow, and
flow over beds of quicksand, which, in seasons of
high water, become boggy and unstable, and are
then exceedingly difficult of crossing. When these
streams are on the rise, and, indeed, before any
swelling is perceptible, their beds become sur-
charged with the sand loosened by the action of the
mider-current from the approaching flood, and from
this time until the water subsides fording is diffi-
cult, requiring great precautions.
On arriving upon the bank of a river of this
character which has not recently been crossed, the
condition of the quicksand may be ascertained by
sending an mtelligent man over the fording-place,
and, should the sand not yield under his feet, it
may be regarded as safe for animals or wagons.
Should it, however, prove soft and yielding, it must
be thoroughly examined, and the best track select-
ed. This can be done by a man on foot, who will
take a number of sharp sticks long enough, when
driven into the bottom of the river, to stand above
the surffice of the Avater. He starts from the shore,
and with one of the sticks and Ids feet tries the
FOEDING RIVEES. 15
bottom in the direction of the opposite bank untU
he finds the firmest ground, where he plants one
of the sticks to mark the track. A man incurs no
danger in walking over quicksand provided he
step rapidly, and he will soon detect the safest
ground. He then proceeds, planting his sticks as
often as may be necessary to mark the way, until
he reaches the opposite bank. The ford is thus as-
certained, and, if there are footmen in the party,
they should cross before the animals and wagons,
as they pack the sand, and make the track more
firm and secure.
If the sand is soft, horses should be led across,
and not allowed to stojD m the stream; and the
better to insure this, they should be watered before
entering upon the ford ; otherwise, as soon as they
stand still, their feet sink in the sand, and soon it
becomes difiicult to extricate them. The same rule
holds in the passage of wagons : they must be driven
steadily across, and the animals never allowed to
stop while in the river, as the wheels sink rapidly
in quicksand. Mules will often stop from fear, and,
when once embarrassed in the sand, they lie down,
and will not use the slightest exertion to regain
their footing. The only alternative, then, is to drag
them out with ropes. I have even known some
mules refuse to put forth the least exertion to get
up after being pulled out upon firm ground, and it
was necessary to set them upon their feet before
they were restored to a consciousness of their own
powers.
76 PKAIRIE TEAVELEE.
lu crossing rivers where the water is so high as
to come into the wagon-beds, but is not above a
fording stage, the contents of the wagons may be
kept dry by raising the beds between the uprights,
and retaining them in that position with blocks of
wood placed at each corner between the rockers
and the bottom of the wagon-beds. The. blocks
must be squared at each end, and their length, of
course, should vary with the depth of water, which
can be determined before cutting them. This is a
very common and simple method of passing streams
among emigrant travelers.
When streams are deep, with a very rapid cur-
rent, it is difficult for the drivers to direct their
teams to the proper coming-out places, as the cur-
rent has a tendency to carry them too far down.
This difficulty may be obviated by attaching a lariat
rope to the leading animals, and having a mounted
man ride in front with the rope in his hand, to assist
the team in stemming the current, and direct it to-
ward the point of egress. It is also a wise pre-
caution, if the ford be at all hazardous, to place a
mounted man on the lower side of the team with a
whip, to urge forward any animal that may not
work properly.
Where rivers are wide, with a swift current, they
should always, if possible, be forded obliquely down
stream, as the action of the water against the wag-
ons assists very materially in carrying them across.
In crossing the North Platte upon the Cherokee
trail at a season when the water was hisjh and
POEDING EIVEES. 79
very rapid, we were obliged to take the only prac-
ticable ford, wHch ran diagonally up the stream.
The consequence was, that the heavy current, com-
ing down with great force agamst the wagons, offer-
ed such powerful resistance to the efforts of the
mules that it was with difficulty they could retam
their footing, and several were drowned. Had the
ford crossed obhquely down the river, there would
have been no difficulty.
When it becomes necessary, with loaded wagons,
to cross a stream of this character against the cur-
rent, I would recommend that the teams be doubled,
the leading animals led, a horseman placed on each
side with whips to assist the driver, and that, be-
fore the first wagon enters the water, a man should
be sent in advance to ascertain the best ford.
During seasons of high water, men, in traversing
the plains, often encounter rivers which rise above
a fording stage, and remain in that condition for
many days, and to await the falHng of the water
might involve a great loss of time. If the traveler
be alone, his only way is to swim his horse ; but if
he retains the seat on his saddle, his weight presses
the animal down into the water, and cramps his
movements very sensibly. It is a much better plan
to attach a cord to the bridle-bit, and drive him
into the stream ; then, seizing his tail, allow him to
tow you across. If he turns out of the course, or
attempts to turn back, he can be checked with the
cord, or by splashing water at his head. If the
rider remams in the saddle, he should allow the
80 PRAIEIE TRAVELER.
horse to have a loose rein, and never pull upon it
except when necessary to guide. If he wishes to
steady himself, he can lay hold upon the mane.
In traveling with large parties, the following ex-
pedients for crossing rivers have been successfully
resorted to within my own experience, and they
are attended with no risk to life or property.
A rapid and deep stream, with high, abrupt, and
soft banks, probably presents the most formidable
array of unfavorable circumstances that can be
found. Streams of this character are occasionally
met with, and it is important to know how to cross
them with the greatest promptitude and safety.
A train of wagons having arrived upon the bank
of such a stream, first select the best point for the
passage, where the banks upon both sides require
the least excavation for a place of ingress and
egress to and from the river. As I have before re-
marked, the place of entering the river should be
above the coming-out place on the oj)posite bank,
as the current will then assist in carrying wagons
and animals across. A spot should be sought where
the bed of the stream is firm at the place where the
animals are to get out on the opposite bank. If,
however, no such place can be found, brush and
cartli should be thrown in to make a foundation
sufiicient to support the animals, and to prevent
them from bogging. After the j^lace for crossing
has been selected, it will be important to determine
tlie breadth of the river between the points of in-
gross and egress, in order to show tlie length of
FORDING RIVEES. 81
rope necessary to reach across. A very simple
practical method of doing this without instrmnents
is found in the French " Manuel du Genie." It is
as follows :
The line AB (the distance to be measured) is extended upon the bank
to D, from which point, after having marked it, lay off equal distances, DC
and Cd; produce BC to 6, making CB=C&; then extend the line db until
it intersects the prolongation of the line through CA at a. The distance
between ah is equal to AB, or the width of the crossing.
F
82 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
A man who is an expert swimmer then takes the
end of a fishing-Hne or a small cord in his month,
and carries it across, leaving the other end fixed
upon the opposite bank, after which a lariat is at-
tached to the cord, and one end of it pulled across
and made fast to a tree ; but if there is nothing
convenient to which the lariat can be attached, an
extra axle or coupling-pole can be pulled over by
the man who has crossed, firmly planted in the
ground, and the rope tied to it. The rope must be
long enough to extend twice across the stream, so
that one end may always be left on each shore. A
very good substitute for a ferry-boat may be made
with a wagon-bed by filling it with empty water-
casks, stopped tight and secured in the wagon with
ropes, with a cask lashed opposite the centre of
each outside. It is then placed in the water bot-
tom upward, and the rope that has been stretched
across the stream attached to one end of it, while
another rope is made fast to the other end, after
which it is loaded, the shore-end loosened, and the
men on the opposite bank pull it across to the land-
ing, where it is discharged and returned for another
load, and so on until all the baggage and men are
passed over.
The wagons can be taken across by fastening
them down to the axles, attaching a rope to the
end of the tongue, and another to the rear of each
to steady it and hold it from drifting below the
landing. It is then pushed into the stream, and
FORDING RIVERS. 83
the men on the opposite bank pull it over. I have
passed a large train of wagons in this way across
a rapid stream fifteen feet deep without any diffi-
culty. I took, at the same time, a six-pounder can-
non, which was separated from its carriage, and
ferried over upon the wagon-boat ; after which
the carriage was pulled over in the same way as
described for the wagons.
There are not always a sufficient number of air-
tight water-casks to fill a wagon-bed, but a tent-
fly, paulin, or wagon-cover can generally be had.
In this event, the wagon-bed may be placed in the
centre of one of these, the cloth brought up around
the ends and sides, and secured firmly with ropes
tied around transversely, and another rope fastened
lengthwise around under the rim. This holds the
cloth in its place, and the wagon may then be
placed in the water right side upward, and man-
aged in the same manner as in the other case. If
the cloth be made of cotton, it will soon swell so as
to leak but very little, and answers a very good
purpose.
Another method of ferrying streams is by means
of what is called by the mountaineers a " hull-hoat^''
the frame-work of which is made of willows bent
into the shape of a short and wide skiflT, with a flat
bottom. Willows grow upon the banks of almost
all the streams on the prairies, and can be bent into
any shape desired. To make a boat with but one
hide, a number of straight wiUows are cut about an
84 ri?AITiTE TRA.YELET?.
inch ill diameter, the ends sharpened and driven
into the ground, forming a frame- work in the shape
of a half egg-shell cut through the longitudinal axis*
Where these rods cross they are fii-mly secured
with strings. A stout rod is then heated and bent
aroimd the frame in such a position that the edges
of the hide, when laid over it and drawn tight, will
just reach it. This rod forms the gunwale, which
is secured by strings to the ribs. Small rods are
then wattled in so as to make it symmetrical and
strong. After which the green or soaked hide is
thrown over the edges, sewed to the gunwales, and
left to dry. The rods are then cut off even with
the gunwale, and the boat is ready for use.
To build a boat with two or more hides : A
stout pole of the desired length is placed uj)on the
ground for a keel, the ends turned up and secured
by a lariat ; willow rods of the required dimensions
are then cut, heated, and bent into the proper shape
for knees, after which their centres are placed at
equal distances upon the keel, and firmly tied with
cords. The knees are retained in their proper curv-
ature by cords around the ends. After a sufficient
number of them have been placed upon the keel,
two poles of suitable dimensions are heated, bent
around the ends for a gunwale, and firmly lashed
to each knee. Smaller willows are then interwoven,
so as to model the frame.
Green or soaked hides are cut into the proper
shape to fit the frame, and sewed together with
FOKDING KIVEES. 85
buckskin strings; tlien the frame of the boat is
placed in the middle, the hide drawn up snug
around the sides, and secured with raw-hide thongs
to the gunwale. The boat is then turned bottom
upward and left to dry, after which the seams
where they have been sewed are covered with a
mixture of melted tallow and pitch : the craft is
now ready for launching.
A boat of this kind is very light and serviceable,
but after a while becomes water-soaked, and should
always be turned bottom upward to dry whenever
it is not in the water. Two men can easily build a
hull -boat of three hides in two days which will
carry ten men with perfect safety.
A small party travehng with a pack train and ar-
riving ujion the banks of a deep stream will not al-
ways have the time to stop or the means to make
any of the boats that have been described. Should
their luggage be such as to become seriously in-
jured by a wetting, and there be an India-rubber
or gutta-percha cloth disposable, or if even a green
beef or buffalo hide can be procured, it may be
spread out upon the ground, and the articles of bag-
gage placed in the centre, in a square or rectangu-
lar form ; the ends and sides are then brought up
so as entirely to envelop the package, and the whole
secured with ropes or raw hide. It is then placed
in the water with a rope attached to one end, and
towed across by men in the same manner as the
boats before described. If hides be used they will
86 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
require greasing occasionally, to prevent their be-
coming water-soaked.
When a mounted party with pack animals arrive
upon the borders of a rapid stream, too deep to
ford, and where the banks are high and abrupt,
with perhaps but one place where the beasts can
get out upon the opposite shore, it would not be
safe to drive or ride them m, calculating that all
will make the desired landing. Some of them will
probably be carried by the swift current too far
down the stream, and thereby endanger not only
their own Hves, but the lives of their riders. I
have seen the experiment tried repeatedly, and
have known several animals to be carried by the
current below the point of egress, and thus drown-
ed. Here is a simple, safe, and expeditious method
of taking animals over such a stream. Suppose, for
example, a party of mounted men arrive upon the
bank of the stream. There will always be some
good swimmers in the party, and probably others
who can not swim at all. Three or four of the
most expert of these are selected, and sent across
with one end of a rope made of lariats tied to-
gether, while the other end is retained upon the
first bank, and made fast to the neck of a gentle
and good swimming horse; after which another
gentle horse is brought up and made fast by a
lariat around his neck to the tail of the first, and
so on until all the horses are thus tied together.
The men who can not swim are then mounted upon
,:/ i
■i ■■ill /I
,;;,,
'':p
iff
/,,
,;/''■' 'f''''^.
DKIVIN^G LOOSE HOESES. 89
tlio best swimming horses and tied on, otherwise
they are Hable to become frightened, lose their
balance, and be carried away in a rapid cm-rent ;
or a horse may stumble and throw his rider. After
the horses have been strung out in a single line by
their riders, and every thing is in readiness, the
first horse is led carefully into the water, while the
men on the opposite bank, pulling upon the rope,
thus direct him across, and, if necessary, aid him in
stemming the current. As soon as this horse strikes
bottom he pulls upon those behind him, and there-
by assists them in making the landing, and in tliis
manner all are j^assed over in perfect safety.
DEIVING LOOSE HORSES.
In travelmg with loose horses across the plains,
some persons are in the habit of attaching them in
pairs by their halters to a long, stout rope stretch-
ed between two wagons drawn by mules, each
wagon being about half loaded. The principal ob-
ject of the rear wagon being to hold back and keej)
the rope stretched, not more than two stout mules
are required, as the horses aid a good deal with
their heads in pulling this wagon. From thirty to
forty horses may be driven very well in this man-
ner, and, if they are wild, it is perhaps the safest
method, exce23t that of leading them with halters
held by men riding beside them. The rope to
which the horses are attached should be about an
inch and a quarter in diameter, with loops or rings
90 PRAIKIE TEAVELEK.
inserted at intervals sufficient to admit the horses
without allowing them to kick each other, and the
halter straps tied to these loops. The horses, on
first starting, should have men by their sides, to
accustom them to this manner of being led. The
wagons should be so driven as to keep the rope
continually stretched. Good drivers must be as-
signed to these wagons, who will constantly watch
the movements of the horses attached, as well as
their own teams.
I have had 150 loose horses driven by ten mount-
ed herdsmen. This requires great care for some
considerable time, until the horses become gentle
and accustomed to their herders. It is important
to ascertain, as soon as possible after starting, which
horses are wild, and may be likely to stampede and
lead off the herd ; such should be led, and never suf-
fered to run loose, either on the march or in camp.
Animals of this character will soon indicate their
propensities, and can be secured during the first
days of the march. It is desirable that all animals
that will not stampede when not working should
run loose on a march, as they pick up a good deal
of grass along the road when travelmg, and the
success of an expedition, when animals get no other
forage but grass, depends in a great degree upon
the time given them for grazing. They will thrive
much better when allowed a free range than when
picketed, as they then are at liberty to select such
grass as suits them. It may therefore be set down
METHOD OF ■MARCHING. 91
as an infallible rule never to be departed from, tbat
all animals, excepting such as will be likely to stam-
pede, should be turned loose for grazing immedi-
ately after arriving at the camping-place ; but it is
equally important that they should be carefully
herded as near the camp as good grass will admit ;
and those that it is necessary to picket should be
placed upon the best grass, and their places changed
often. The ropes to which they are attached should
be about forty feet long ; the picket-pins, of iron,
fifteen inches long, with ring and SAvivel at top, so
that the rope shall not twist as the animal feeds
around it ; and the pins must be firmly driven into
tenacious earth.
Animals should be herded during the day at such
distances as to leave sufficient grass undisturbed
around and near the camp for grazing through the
night.
METHOD OF MAECHING.
Among men of limited ex23erience in frontier life
will be found a great diversity of oj)inion regarding
the best methods of marching, and of treating ani-
mals in expeditions upon the prairies. Some will
make late starts and travel during the heat of the
day without nooning, while others will start early
and make two marches, laying by during the mid-
dle of the day ; some will picket their animals con-
tinually in camp, while others will herd them day
and night, etc., etc. For mounted troops, or, indeed,
92 PEAIKIE TKAVELEE.
for any body of men traveling witli horses and mules,
a few general rules may be specified which have the
sanction of mature experience, and a deviation from
them will inevitably result in consequences highly
detrimental to the best interests of an expedition.
In ordmary marches through a country where
grass and water are abundant and good, animals re-
ceiving proper attention should not fall away, even
if they receive no grain ; and, as I said before, they
should not be made to travel faster than a walk un-
less absolutely necessary ; neither should they be
taken off the road for the purpose of hunting or
chasing buffalo, as one buffalo-chase injures them
more than a week of moderate riding. In the vi-
cinity of hostile Indians, the animals must be care-
fully herded and guarded within protection of the
camp, while those picketed should be changed as
often as the grass is eaten off within the circle de-
scribed by the tether-rope. At night they should
be brought within the chain of sentinels and pick-
eted as compactly as is consistent Avith the space
needed for grazing, and under no circumstances,
unless the Indians are known to be near and an at-
tack is to be expected, should they be tied up to a
picket Hue where they can get no grass. Unless
allowed to graze at night they will fall away raj^id-
ly, and soon become unserviceable. It is much bet-
ter to march after nightfall, turn some distance off
the road, and to encamp without fires in a depressed
locality where the Indians can not track the party,
and the animals may l)c picketed without danger.
METHOD OF :marciitxg. 93
In descending abrupt hills and mountains one
wheel of a loaded wagon should always be locked,
as this relieves the wheel animals and makes every
thing more secure. When the declivity is great
both rear wdieels should be locked, and if very ab-
ru]3t, requiring great effort on the wheel animals to
hold the wagon, the wheels should be rough-locked
by lengthening the lock-chains so that the part
which goes around the wheels will come directly
upon the ground, and thus create more friction.
Occasionally, however, hills are met with so nearly
perpendicular that it becomes necessary to attach
ropes to the rear axle, and to station men to hold
back upon them and steady the vehicle down the
descent. Rough-locking is a very safe method of
passing heavy artillery down abrupt declivities.
There are several mountains between the Missouri
River and California where it is necessary to resort
to one of the two last-mentioned methods in order
to descend with security. If there are no lock-chains
upon wagons, the front and rear wheels on the same
side may be tied together with roj)es so as to lock
them very firmly.
It is an old and well-established custom among
men experienced in frontier life always to cross a
stream upon which it is intended to encamp for the
night, and this rule should never be departed from
where a stream is to be forded, as a rise during the
night might detain the traveler for several days in
awaiting the fall of the waters.
94 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
STORMS.
In Western Texas, during the autumn and winter
months, storms arise very suddenly, and, when ac-
companied by a north wind, are very severe upon
men and animals ; indeed, they are sometimes so ter-
rific as to make it necessary for travelers to hasten
to the nearest sheltered place to save the lives of
their animals. When these storms come from the
north, they are called '•^ 7iorthers f and as, during
the winter season, the temperature often undergoes
a sudden change of many degrees at the time the
storm sets in, the perspiration is checked, and the
system receives an instantaneous shock, against
which it requires great vital energy to bear up.
Men and animals are not, in this mild chmate, pre-
pared for these capricious meteoric revolutions, and
they not unfrequently perish under their efiects.
While passing near the head waters of the Colo-
rado in October, 1849, I left one of my camps at
an early hour in the morning under a mild and soft
atmosphere, with a gentle breeze from the south,
but had marched only a short distance when the
wind suddenly whipped around into the north,
bringing with it a furious chilling rain, and in a
short time the road became so soft and heavy as to
make the labor of pulling the wagons over it very
exhausting upon the mules, and they came into
camp in a profuse sweat, with the rain pouring
down in torrents upon them.
STORMS. 95
They were turned out of harness into the most
sheltered place that could be found ; but, instead of
eating, as was their custom, they turned their heads
from the wind, and remained in that position, chilled
and trembling, without making the least effort to
move. The rain continued with unabated fury
during the entire day and night, and on the follow-
ing morning thirty-five out of one hundred and ten
mules had perished, while those remaining could
hardly be said to have had a spark of vitality left.
They were drawn up with the cold, and could with
difiiculty walk. Tents and wagon-covers were cut
up to protect them, and they were then driven
about ^or some time, until a little vital energy was
restored, after which they commenced eating grass,
but it was three or four days before they recovered
sufficiently to resume the march.
The mistake I made was in driving the mules
after the "norther" commenced. Had I gone im-
mediately into camp, before they became heated
and wearied, they would probably have eaten the
grass, and this, I have no doubt, would have saved
them; but as it was, their blood became heated
from overwork, and the sudden chill brought on a
reaction which proved fatal. If an animal will eat
his forage plentifully, there is but little danger of
his perishing with cold. This I assert with much
confidence, as I once, when traveling with about
1500 horses and mules, encountered the most ter-
rific snow-storm that has been known within the
96 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
memory of the oldest mountaineers. It commenced
on the last day of April, and continued without ces-
sation for sixty consecutive hours. The day had
been mild and pleasant ; the green grass was about
six inches high ; the trees had put out their new
leaves, and all nature conspired to show that the
sombre garb of winter had been jpermanently su-
perseded by the smiling attire of spring. About
dark, however, the wind turned into the north ; it
commenced to snow violently, and increased until
it became a frightful tempest, filhng the atmosphere
with a dense cloud of driving snow, against which
it was impossible to ride or walk. Soon after the
storm set in, one herd of three hundred horses and
mules broke away from the herdsmen wha were
around them, and, in spite of all their efforts, ran at
full speed, directly with the w^md and snow, for
fifty miles before they stopped.
Three of the herdsmen followed them as far as
they were able, but soon became exhausted and lost
on the prairie. One of them found his way back to
camp in a state of great prostration and suffering.
One of the others was found dead, and the third
crawlhig about upon his hands and knees, after the
storm ceased.
It happened, fortunately, that I had reserved a
quantity of corn to be used in the event of finding
a scarcity of grass, and as soon as the ground be-
came covered with snow, so that the animals could
not get at the grass, I fed out the corn, which I am
STORMS. 97
induced to believe saved their lives. Indeed, they
did not seem to be at all afiected by this prolonged
and unseasonable tempest. This occurred u]3on the
summit of the elevated ridge dividing the waters
of the Arkansas and South Platte Rivers, where
storms are said to be of frequent occurrence.
The greater part of the animals that stampeded
were recovered after the storm, and, although they
had traveled a hundred miles at a very rapid pace,
they did not seem to be much affected by it.
G
98 PEAIBIE TRAVELER.
CHAPTER IV.
Packing. — Saddles. — Mexican Method. — Madrina, or Bell-
mare. — Attachment of the Mule illustrated. — Best Method
of Packing. — Hoppling Animals. — Selecting Horses and
Mules. — Grama and bunch Grass. — European Saddles. —
California Saddle. — Saddle Wounds. — Alkali. —Flies.—
Colic. — Rattlesnake Bites. — Cures for the Bite.
PACKING AND DRIVING.
"With a train of pack animals properly organized
and equipped, a party may travel with much com-
fort and celerity. It is enabled to take short cuts,
and move over the country in almost any direction
without regard to roads. Mountains and broken
ground may easily be traversed, and exemption is
gained from many of the troubles and detentions
attendant upon the transit of cumbersome wagon-
trams.
One of the most essential requisites to the outfit
of a pack train is a good pack-saddle. Various pat-
terns are in use, many of which are mere mstru-
ments of torture upon the backs of the poor brutes,
lacerating them cruelly, and causing continued
pain.
The Mexicans use a leathern pack-saddle without
a tree. It is stuffed with hay, and is very large.
PACKING AND DEIVING.
9.9
covering almost the entire back, and extending far
down the sides. It is secured with a broad hair
girth, and the load is kept in position by a lash-
rope drawn by two men so tight as to give the un-
fortimate beast intense suffering.
A pack-saddle is made by T. Grimsley, No. 41
Main Street, St. Louis, Mo. It is open at the top,
with a light, compact, and strong tree, which fits
the animal's back well, and is covered with raw
GEIMSLET'8 PACK-SABDLE.
hide, put on green, and drawn tight by the con-
traction in drying. It has a leathern breast-strap,
breeching, and lash-strap, with a broad hair girth
fastened in the Mexican fashion. Of sixty-five of
these saddles that I used in crossmg the Rocky
Mountains, over an exceedingly rough and broken
section, not one of them woimded a mule's back,
100 PEAIEIE TRAVELEK.
and I regard them as the best saddles I have ever
seen.
No people, probably, are more familiar with the
art of packing than the Mexicans. They under-
stand the habits, disposition, and powers of the
mule perfectly, and will get more work out of him
than any other men I have ever seen. TJie mule
and the donkey are to them as the camel to the
Ai-ab — their porters over deserts and mountains
where no other means of transportation can be
used to advantage. The Spanish Mexicans are,
however, cruel masters, having no mercy upon their
beasts, and it is no uncommon thing for them to
load their mules with the enormous burden of three
or four hundred pomids.
These muleteers believe that, when the pack is
firmly lashed, the animal suj^ports his burden better
and travels with greater ease, which seems quite
probable, as the tension forms, as it were, an ex-
ternal sheath supporting and bracing the muscles.
It also has a tendency to prevent the saddle from
slipping and chafing the mule's back. With such
huge cargas as the Mexicans load upon their mules,
it IS impossible, by any precautions, to prevent their
backs and withers from becoming horribly mangled,
and it is common to see them working their animals
day after day in this miserable plight. This heavy
packing causes the scars that so often mark Mexi-
can mules.
The animal, in startmg out from camp in the
PACKING AND DRIVING. 101
morning, groaning under the weight of his heavy
burden, seems hardly able to move ; but the pack
soon settles, and so loosens the lashing that after a
short time he moves along with more ease. Con-
stant care and vigilance on the part of the mule-
teers are necessary to prevent the packs from work-
ing loose and falling oif. The adjustment of a car-
ga upon a mule does not, however, detain the cara-
van, as the others move on while it is being righted.
If the mules are suffered to halt, they are apt to lie
down, and it is very difficult for them, with their
loads, to rise; besides, they are likely to strain
themselves in their efforts to do so. The Mexicans,
in traveling with large caravans, usually make the
day's march without nooning, as too much time
would be consumed in unloading and packing up
agam.
Packs, when taken off in camp, should be piled
in a row upon the ground, and, if there be a pros-
pect of rain, the saddles should be placed over them,
and the whole covered with the saddle-blankets or
canvas.
The muleteers and herders should be mounted
upon well-trained horses, and be careful to keep the
animals of the caravan from wandering or scatter-
ing along the road. This can easily be done by
having some of the men riding upon each side, and
others in rear of the caravan.
In herding mules it is customary among prairie
travelers to have a bell-mare, to which the mules
102 PRAIRIE TEAYELEE.
soon become so attached that they will follow her
wherever she goes. By keeping her in charge of
one of the herdsmen, the herds are easily controlled;
and durmg a stampede, if the herdsman mounts her,
and rushes ahead toward camp, they will generally
follow.
In crossing rivers the bell-mare should pass first,
after which the mules are easily induced to take to
the water and pass over, even if they have to swim.
Mules are good swimmers unless they happen, by
plunging off a high bank, to get water in their ears,
when they are often droT;vTied. Whenever a mule
in the water drops his ears, it is a sure indication
that he has water in them, and he should be taken
out as soon as possible. To prevent accidents of
this nature, where the water is deep and the banks
abrupt, the mule herds should be allowed to enter
slowly, and without crowding, as otherwise they
are not only hkely to get their heads under water,
but to throw each other over and get injured.
The tnadrma^ or bell-mare, acts a most import-
ant part in a herd of mules, and is regarded by ex-
perienced campaigners as indispensable to their se-
curity. She is selected for her quiet and regular
habits. She will not wander far from the camp. If
she happen to have a colt by her side, this is no ob-
jection, as the mules soon form the most devoted
attachment to it. I have often seen them leave
their grazing when very lumgry, and flock around
a small colt, manifesting their delight by rubbing it
PACKING AND DEIVING. 103
with their noses, licking it with their tongues, kick-
ing up their heels, and making a variety of other
grotesque demonstrations of affection, while the
poor little colt, perfectly unconscious of the cause
of these ungainly caresses, stood trembling with fear,
but unable to make his escape from the compact
ch'cle of his muhsh admirers. Horses and asses are
also used as bell animals, and the mules soon become
accustomed to following them. If a man leads or
rides a bell animal in advance, the mules follow, like
so many dogs, in the most orderly procession.
" After traveling about fourteen miles," says Bay-
ard Taylor, " we were joined by three miners, and
our mules, taking a sudden liking for their horses,
jogged on at a more brisk pace. The instincts of
the mulish heart form an interesting study to the
traveler in the mountains. I would (were the com-
parison not too ungallant) liken it to a woman's, for
it is quite as uncertain in its sympathies, bestowing
its affections when least expected, and, when be-
stowed, quite as constant, so long as the object is
not taken away. Sometimes a horse, sometimes
an ass, captivates the fancy of a whole drove of
mules, but often an animal nowise akin. Lieutenant
Beale told me that his whole train of mules once
galloped off suddenly, on the plains of the Cima-
rone, and ran half a mile, when they halted in ap-
parent satisfaction. The cause of their freak was
found to be a buffalo calf which had strayed from
the herd. They were frisking around it in the great-
104 PKAIEIE TEAVELER.
est delight, rubbing tlieir noses against it, throwing
lip their heels, and making themselves ridiculous by
abortive attempts to neigh and bray, while the calf,
imconscious of its attractive qualities, stood trem-
bling in their midst."
" If several large troops," says Charles Darwin,
" are turned into one field to graze in the morning,
the muleteer has only to lead the madrinas a little
apart and tinkle their bells, and, although there
may be 200 or 300 mules together, each immedi-
ately knows its own bell, and separates itself from
the rest. The affection of these animals for their
madrina saves infinite trouble. It is nearly impos-
sible to lose an old mule, for, if detained several
hours by force, she will, by the power of smell,
like a dog, track out her companions, or rather the
madrina ; .for, according to the muleteer, she is the
chief object of afiection. The feeling, however, is
not of an individual nature, for I beheve I am right
in saying that any animal with a beU will serve as a
madrina."
Of the attachment that a mule will form for a
horse, I will cite an instance from my own observa-
tion, which struck me at the time as being one of
the most remarkable and touching evidences of de-
votion that I have ever known among the brute
creation.
On leaving Fort Leavenworth with the army for
Utah in 1857, one of the officers rode a small mule,
whose kind and gentle disposition soon caused him
PACKIIS'G AND DRIVING. 105
to become a favorite among the soldiers, and they
named him "Billy." As this officer and myself
were often thrown together upon the march, the
mule, in the course of a few days, evinced a grow-
ing attachment for a mare that I rode. The senti-
ment was not, however, reciprocated on her j^art,
and she intimated as much by the reversed position
of her ears, and the free exercise of her feet and
teeth whenever Billy came within her reach ; but
these signal marks of displeasure, instead of dis-
couraging, rather seemed to increase his devotion,
and whenever at liberty he invariably sought to
get near her, and appeared much distressed when
not permitted to follow her.
On leaving Camp Scott for ISTew Mexico Billy
was among the number of mules selected for the
expedition. During the march I was in the habit,
when starting out from camp in the morning, of
leading oif the party, and directmg the packmen to
hold the mule until I should get so far in advance
with the mare that he could not see us ; but the
moment he was released he would, m spite of all
the efforts of the packers, start off at a most furi-
ous pace, and never stop or cease braying until he
reached the mare's side. We soon found it impos-
sible to keep him with the other mules, and he was
finally permitted to have his own way.
In the course of time we encountered the deep
snows in the Rocky Mountains, where the animals
could get no forage, and Billy, in common with
106 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
the others, at length became so weak and jaded
that he was unable any longer to leave his place in
the caravan and break a track through the snow
around to the front. He made frequent attempts
to turn out and force his way ahead, but after nu-
merous unsuccessful efforts he would fall down ex-
hausted, and set up a most mournful braying.
The other mules soon began to fail, and to be left,
worn out and famished, to die by the wayside ; it
was not, however, for some time that Billy showed
symptoms of becoming one of the victims, until one
evening after our arrival at camp I was informed
that he had dropped down and been left upon the
road during the day. The men all deplored his loss
exceedingly, as his devotion to the mare had touch-
ed their kind hearts, and many expressions of sym-
pathy were uttered around their bivouac fii'es on
that evenmg.
Much to our surprise, however, about ten o'clock,
just as we were about going to sleep, we heard a
mule braying about half a mile to the rear upon our
trail. Sure enough, it proved to be Billy, who,
after having rested, had followed upon our track
and overtaken us. As soon as he reached the side
of the mare he lay down and seemed perfectly con-
tented.
The next day I relieved him from his pack, and
allowed him to run loose ; but during the march he
gave out, and was again abandoned to his fate, and
this time we certainly never expected to see liini
PACKING AND DRIVING. 107
more. To our great astonishment, however, about
twelve o'clock that night the sonorous but not very
musical notes of Billy in the distance aroused us
from our slumbers, and again announced his ap-
proach. In an instant the men were upon their
feet, gave three hearty cheers, and rushed out in a
body to meet and escort him into camp.
But this well-meant ovation elicited no response
from him. He came reeling and floundering along
through the deep snow, perfectly regardless of these
honors, pushing aside all those who occupied the
trail or interrupted his progress in the least, wan-
dered about until he found the mare, dropped down
by her side, and remained until morning.
When we resumed our march on the following
day he made another desperate effort to proceed,
but soon fell down exhausted, when we reluctantly
abandoned him, and saw him no more.
Alas ! poor Billy ! your constancy deserved a
better fate ; you may, mdeed, be said to have been
a victim to imrequited affection.
The articles to be transported should be made up
into two packages of precisely equal weight, and as
nearly equal in bulk as practicable, otherwise they
will sway the saddle over to one side, and cause it
to chafe the animal's back.
The packages made, two ropes about six feet
long are fastened around the ends by a slij^-knot,
and if the packages contain corn or other articles
that will shift al)out, small sticks shoiihl be plnced
108 PRAIRIE TRAVELElt.
between the sacks and the ropes, which equalizes
the pressure and keeps the packages snug. The
ropes are then looped at the ends, and made pre-
cisely of the same length, so that the packs will
balance and come up well toward the top of the
saddle. Two men then, each taking a pack, go
upon opposite sides of the mule, that has been pre-
viously saddled, and, raising the packs sumiltaneous-
ly, place the loops over the pommel and cantel, set-
tling them well down into their places. The lash-
ing-strap is then thrown over the top, brought
through the rings upon each side, and drawn as
tight at every turn as the two men on the sides can
pull it, and, after having been carried back and
forth diagonally across the packs as often as its
length admits (generally three or four times), it is
made fast to one of the rings, and securely tied in
a slip-knot.
The breast-strap and breeching must not be buck-
led so close as to chafe the skin ; the girth should
be broad and soft where it comes opposite the fore
legs, to prevent cutting them. Leather girths
should be wrapped with cloth or bound with soft
material. The hair girth, being soft and elastic, is
much better than leather.
The crupper should never be dispensed with in a
mountainous country, but it must be soft, round,
and about an inch in diameter where it comes in
contact mth the tail, otherwise it will wound the
animal in making long and abrupt descents.
PACKING AND DEIVING. 109
In Norway they use a short round stick, about
ten inches long, which j^asses under the tail, and
from each end of this a cord connects with the
saddle.
Camp-kettles, tin vessels, and other articles that
will rattle and be Hkely to frighten animals, should
be firmly lashed to the packs. When the packs
work loose, the lash-strap should be untied, and a
man upon each side draw it up again and make it
fast. When ropes are used for lashing, they may be
tightened by twisting them with a short stick and
making the stick fast.
One hundred and twenty-five pounds is a suffi-
cient load for a mule upon a long journey.
In traveling over a rocky country, and upon all
long journeys, horses and mules should be shod, to
prevent their hoofs wearing out or breaking. The
mountaineers contend that beasts travel better with-
out shoeing, but I have several times had occasion
to regret the omission of this very necessary pre-
caution. A few extra shoes and nails, with a small
hammer, will enable travelers to keep then* animals
shod.
In turning out pack animals to graze, it is weU
either to keep the lariat ropes upon them with the
ends trailing upon the ground, or to hopple them,
as no corral can be made into which they may be
driven in order to catch them. A very good way
to catch an animal without drivinoj him into an m-
closure is for two men to take a long rope and stretch
110 PEAIKIE TEAVELEK.
it out at the height of the animal's neck ; some men
then drive him slowly up against it, when one of the
men with the rope runs around behind the animal
and back to the front again, thus taking a turn with
the rope around his neck and holding him secure.
To prevent an animal from kicking, take a forked
stick and make the forked part fast to the bridle-
bit, bringing the two ends above the head and se-
curing them there, leaving the part of the stick be-
low the fork of sufficient length to reach near the
ground when the animal's head is in its natural po-
sition. He can not kick up unless he lowers his
head, and the stick effectually prevents that.
Tether-ropes should be so attached to the neck
of the animal as not to slip and choke him, and the
picket-pins never be left on the ropes except Avhen
in the ground, as, in the event of a stampede, they
are very hkely to swing around and injure the an-
imals.
Many experienced travelers were formerly in the
habit of securing their animals with a strap or iron
ring fastened around the fetlock of one fore foot,
and this attached to the tether-rope. This method
holds the animal very securely to the picket-pin, but
when the rope is first put on, and before he becomes
accustomed to it, he is liable to throw himself down
and get hurt ; so that I think the -plsm of tethering
by the neck or halter is the safest, and, so far as I
have observed, is now universally practiced.
The mountameers and Indians seldom tether their
PACKING AND DRIVING. Ill
animals, but prefer the plan of hoppling, as this gives
them more latitude for ranging and selectmg the
choicest grass.
Two methods of hoppling are practiced among
the Indians and hunters of the West : one with a
strap about two feet long buckling around the fore
legs above the fetlock joints ; the other is what they
term the " side liopple^^ which is made by buckhng
a strap around a front and rear leg upon the same
side. In both cases care should be taken not to
buckle the strap so tight as to chafe the legs. The
latter plan is the best, because the animal, side-
hoppled, is able to go but little faster than a walk,
while the front hopple permits him, after a little
practice, to gallop off at considerable speed. If the
hopples are made of iron connected with chains,
like handcuffs, with locks and keys, it will be im-
possible for the Indians, without files, to cut them ;
but the parts that come in contact with the legs
should be covered with soft leather.
" A horse," says Mr. Galton, " may be hoppled
with a stirrup-leather by placing the middle around
one leg, then twisting it several times and buckling
it round the other leg. When you wish to picket
horses in the middle of a sandy plain, dig a hole
two or three feet deep, and, tying your rope to a
fagot of sticks or brushwood, or even to a bag
filled with sand, bury this m it."
For prairie service, horses which have been raised
exclusively upon grass, and never been fed on grain,
112 PEAIRIE TEAVELEE.
or " range liorses^'' as they are called in the "West,
are decidedly the best, and will perform more hard
labor than those that have been stabled and groom-
ed. The large, stout ponies found among some of
our frontier settlements are well adapted to this
service, and endure admirably. The same remarks
hold good in the choice of mules; and it will be
found that the square-built, big-bellied, and short-
legged Mexican mule will endure far more hard
service, on short allowance of forage, than the
larger American mule which has been accustomed
to grain.
In our trip across the Rocky Mountains we had
both the American and Mexican mules, and im-
proved a good opportunity of giving their relative
powers of endurance a thorough service-trial. For
many days they were reduced to a meagre allow-
ance of dry grass, and at length got nothing but
pine leaves, while their work in the deep snow was
exceedingly severe. This soon told upon the Amer-
ican mules, and all of them, with the exception of
two, died, while most of the Mexican mules went
through. The result was perfectly conclusive.
We found that, where the snow was not more
than two feet deep, the animals soon learned to paw
it away and get at the grass. Of course they do
not get sufficient in this way, but they do much
better than one would suppose.
In Utah and New Mexico the autumn is so dry
that the grass does not lose its nutritious properties
PACKING AND DRIVING. 113
by being washed with rains. It gradually dries
and cures like hay, so that animals eat it freely,
and will fatten upon it even in mid-winter. It is
seldom that any gram is fed to stock in either of
these territories.
Several of the varieties of grass growing upon
the slopes of the Rocky Mountains are of excel-
lent quality; among these may be mentioned the
Gramma and bunch grasses. Horses and mules
turned out to graze always prefer the grass upon
the mountain sides to grass of the valleys.
We left New Mexico about the first of March, six
weeks before the new grass appeared, with 1500
animals, many of them low in flesh, yet they im-
proved upon the journey, and on their arrival in
Utah were all, with very few exceptions, in fine
working condition. Had this march been made at
the same season in the country bordering upon the
Missouri River, where there are heavy autumnal
rains, the animals would probably have become
very poor.
In this journey the herds were allowed to range
over the best grass that could be found, but were
guarded both night and day with great care, where-
as, if they had been corraled or picketed at night, I
dare say they would have lost flesh.*
* Some curious and interesting experiments are said to have
been recently made at the veterinary school at Alfort, near
Paris, by order of the minister of war, to ascertain the powers
of endurance of horses. It appears that a horse will live on
H
114 PKAIRIE TEAVELER.
SADDLES.
Great diversity of opinion exists regarding the
best equipment for horses, and the long-mooted
question is as yet very far from being definitely
settled.
I do not regard the opinions of Europeans as
having a more direct bearing upon this question, or
as tending to estabhsh any more definite and posi-
tive conclusions regarding it than have been devel-
oped by the experience of our own border citizens,
the major part of whose lives has been spent in the
saddle ; yet I am confident that the following brief
description of the horse equipments used in dififer-
ent parts of Europe, the substance of which I have
extracted from Captain M'Clellan's interesting re-
port, will be read with interest and instruction.
The saddle used by the African chasseurs consists
of a plain wooden tree, with a pad upon the top, but
without skirts, and is somewhat similar to our own
military saddle, but lower in the pommel and cantle.
water alone five-and-twenty days ; seventeen days without
eating or drinking ; only five days if fed and unwatered ; ten
days if fed and insufficiently watered. A horse kept without
water for three days drank one hundred and four pounds of
water in three minutes. It was found that a horse taken im-
mediately after "feed," and kept in the active exercise of the
"squadron school," completely digested its "feed" in three
hoiu's; in the same time in the "conscript's school" its food
was two thirds digested ; and if kept perfectly quiet in the
stable, its digestion was scarcely commenced in tJiree hours.
SADDLES. 115
The girth and surcingle are of leather, with an or-
dinary woolen saddle-blanket. Their bridle has a
single head-stall, with the Spanish bit buckled to it.
A new saddle has recently been introduced into
the French service by Captain Cogent, the tree of
which is cut out of a single piece of wood, the can-
tie only being glued on, and a piece of walnut let
into the pommel, with a thin strip veneered upon
the front ends of the bars. The pommel and cantle
are lower than in the old model ; the Avhole is cov-
ered with w^et raw hide, glued on and sewed at the
edges. The great advantage this saddle possesses
is in being so arranged that it may be used for
horses of all sizes and conditions. The saddle-blank-
et is made of thick felt cloth, and is attached to the
pommel by a small strap passing through holes in
the blanket, which is thus prevented from slipping,
and at the same time it raises the saddle so as to
admit a free circulation of air over the horse's spine.
The Hungarian saddle is made of hard wood en-
tirely uncovered, with a raised pommel and cantle.
The seat is formed with a leather strap four inches
wide nailed to the forks on the front and rear, and
secured to the side-boards by leather thongs, thus
giving an elastic and easy saddle-seat. This is also
the form of the saddle-tree used by the Russian and
Austrian cavalry. The Russians have a leather girth
fastened by three small buckles : it passes over the
tree, and is tied to the side-boards. The saddle-
bkmket is of stout felt cloth in four thicknesses, and
116 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
a layer of black leather over it, and the whole held
together by leather thongs passmg through and
through. When the horse falls off in flesh, more
thicknesses are added, and " vice versaP This sad-
dle-blanket is regarded by the Kussian oflicers as
the best possible arrangement. The Russians use
the curb and snaffle-bits made of steel.
The Cossack saddle has a thick padding under the
side-boards and on the seat, which raises the rider
very high on his horse, so that his feet are above
the bottom of the belly. Their bridle has but a
simple snaffle-bit, and no martingale.
The Prussian cuirassiers have a heavy saddle with
a low pommel and cantle, covered with leather, but
it is not thought by Captain M'Clellan to present
any thing worthy of imitation.
The other Prussian cavalry ride the Hungarian
saddle, of a heaAder model than the one in the Aus-
trian service. The surcmgle is of leather, and fast-
ens in the Mexican style; the girth is also of leather,
three and a half inches wide, with a large buckle.
It is in two parts, attached to the bars by raw-hide
thongs. The curb and snaffle steel bits are used,
and attached to a single head-stall.
The English cavalry use a saddle which has a low-
er cantle and pommel than our Grimsley saddle,
covered with leather. The snaffle-bit is attached to
the halter head-stall by a chain and T ; the curb has
a separate head-stall, which on a march is occasion-
ally taken off and hung on the carbine stock.
SADDLES. 117
The Sardinian saddle has a bare wooden tree
very similar to the Hungarian. A common blanket,
folded in twelve thicknesses, is placed under it.
The girth and surcingle are of leather.
Without expressing any opinion as to the com-
parative merits of these different saddles, I may be
permitted to give a few general principles, which I
regard as infallible in the choice of a saddle.
The side-boards should be large, and made to con-
form to the shape of the horse's back, thereby dis-
tributing the burden over a large surface. It should
stand up well above the spine, so as to admit a free
circulation of air under it.
For long journeys, the crupper, where it comes in
contact with the tail, should be made of soft leather.
It should be drawn back only far enough to hold
the saddle from the withers. Some horses require
much more tension upon the crupper than others.
The girth should be made broad, of a soft and elas-
tic material. JThose made of hair, in use among the
Mexicans, fulfill the precited conditions.
A light and easy bit, which will not fret or chafe
the horse, is recommended.''
The saddle-blanket must be folded even and
smooth, and placed on so as to cover every j^art of
the back that comes in contact with the saddle,
and in warm weather it is well to place a gunny
bag under the blanket, as it is cooler than the avooI.
It will have been observed that, in the French
service, the folded saddle-blanket is tied to the
118 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
pommel to prevent it slipping back. This is well
if the blanket be taken oif and thoroughly dried
whenever the horse is unsaddled.
A saddle-blanket made of moss is used in some
of the Southwestern States, which is regarded by-
many as the perfection of this article of horse equip-
ment. It is a mat woven into the proper shape
and size from the beaten fibres of moss that hangs
from the trees in our Southern States. It is cheap,
durable, is not in any way affected by sweat, and
does not chafe or heat the horse's spine like the
woolen blanket. Its open texture allows a rapid
evaporation, which tends to keep the back cool,
and obviates the danger of stripping and sudden
exposure of the heated parts to the sun and air.
The experience of some of our officers who have
used this mat for years in Mexico and Texas cor-
roborates all I have said in its favor ; and they are
unanimous in the opinion that a horse will never get
a sore back when it is placed under a good saddle.
A saddle made by the Mexicans in California is
called the California saddle. This is extensively
used upon the Pacific slope of the mountains, and
is believed to possess, at least, as many advantages
for rough frontier service as any other pattern that
has been mvented. Those hardy and experienced
veterans, the mountaineers, could not be persuaded
to ride any other saddle, and their ripened knowl-
edge of such matters certainly gives weight to their
conclusions.
SADDLES.
119
The merits of the California saddle consist in its
being light, strong, and compact, and conforming
well to the shape of the horse. When strapped on,
it rests so firmly in position that the strongest pull
of a horse upon a lariat attached to the pommel can
OAIIFOENIA SADDLE.
not displace it. Its shape is such that the rider is
compelled to sit nearly erect, with his legs on the
continuation of the line of the body, which makes
his seat more secure, and, at the same time, gives
him a better control over his arms and horse. This
120 PEAIRIE TEAVELER.
position is attained by setting the stirup-leathers
farther back than on the old-fashioned saddle. The
pommel is high, like the Mexican saddle, and pre-
vents the rider from being thrown forward. The
tree is covered with raw hide, put on green, and
sewed; when this dries and contracts it gives it
great strength. It has no iron in its composition,
but is kept together by buckskin strings, and can
easily be taken to pieces for mending or cleaning.
It has a hair girth about five inches wide.
The whole saddle is covered with a large and
thick sheet of sole-leather, having a hole to lay over
the pommel ; it extends back over the horse's hips,
and protects them from rain, and when taken off in
camp it furnishes a good security against dampness
when placed under the traveler's bed.
The California saddle-tree is regarded by many
as the best of all others for the horse's back, and as
having an easier seat than the Mexican.
General Comte de la Roche- Aymon, in his treat-
ise upon "Light Troops," published in Paris in
1856, says:
"In nearly all the European armies the equip-
ment of the horse is not in harmony with the new
tactics — with those tactics in which, during nearly
all of a campaign, the cavalry remains in bivouac.
Have we reflected upon the kind of saddle which,
under these circumstances, would cover the horse
best without incommoding him during the short
periods that he is permitted to repose ? Have we
SADDLES. 121
reflected upon the kind of saddle which, offering
the least fragility, exposes the horse to the least
danger of sore back? All the cuirassiers and the
dragoons of Europe have saddles which they call
Fixnch saddle^ the weight of which is a load for
the horse. The interior mechanism of these sad-
dles is complicated and filled with weak bands of
iron, which become deranged, bend, and sometimes
break ; the rider does not perceive these accidents,
or he does not wish to perceive them, for fear of
being left behind or of having to go on foot ; he
continues on, and at the end of a day's march his
horse has a sore back, and in a few days is absolute-
ly unserviceable. We may satisfy ourselves of the
truth of these observations by comparing the lists
of horses sent to the rear during the course of a
campaign by the cuirassiers and dragoons who use
the French saddle, and by the hussars with the
Hungarian saddle. The number sent to the rear by
the latter is infinitely less, although employed in a
service much more active and severe ; and it niight
be still less by making some slight improvements
in the manner of fixing their saddle upon the horse.
" It is a long time since Marshal Saxe said there
was but one kind of saddle fit for cavalry, which
was the hussar saddle : this combined all advant-
ages, lightness, solidity, and economy. It is as-
tonishing that the system of actual war had not led
to the employment of the kmd of saddle in use
among the Tartars, the Cossacks, the Himgarians,
122 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
and, indeed, among all horsemen and nomads.
This saddle has the incontestable advantage of per-
mitting the horse to lie down and rest himself with-
out inconvenience. If, notwithstanding the folded
blanket which they place under the Hungarian sad-
dle, this saddle will still wound the animal's back
sometimes, this only proceeds from the friction oc-
casioned by the motion of the horse and the move-
ment of the rider upon the saddle ; a friction which
it will be nearly impossible to avoid, inasmuch as
the saddle-bow is held in its place only by a surcin-
gle, the ends of which are united by a leathern
band : these bands always relax more or less, and
the saddle becomes loose. To remedy this, I pro-
pose to attach to the saddle-bow itself a double
girth, one end of which shall be made fast to the
arch in front, and the other end to the rear of the
arch upon the right side, to unite in a single girth,
which would buckle to a strap attached upon the
left side in the usual manner. This buckle will
hold' the saddle firmly in its place.
" [N'otwithstanding all these precautions, however,
there were still some inconveniences resulting from
the nature of the blanket placed under the saddle,
which I sought to remedy, and I easily accomplish-
ed it. The woolen nap of the cavalry saddle-blank-
ets, not being carefully attended to, soon wears oif,
and leaves only the rough, coarse threads of the
fabric ; this absorbs the sweat from the horse, and,
after it has dried and become hard, it acts like a
SORES AND DISEASES. 123
rasp upon the withers, first takmg off the hair, next
the skin, and then the flesh, and, finally, the beast
is rendered unserviceable.
" I sought, during the campaign of 1807, a means
to remedy this evil, and I soon succeeded by a pro-
cess as simple as it was cheap. I distributed among
a great number of cavalry soldiers pieces of linen
cloth folded double, two feet square, and previously
dipped in melted tallow. This cloth was laid next
to the horse's back, under the saddle-blanket, and
it prevented all the bad effects of the woolen blank-
et. 'No horses, after this appliance, were afflicted
with sore backs. Such are the slight changes which
I beheve should be made in the use of the Hunga-
rian saddle. The remainder of the equipment should
remain (as it always has been) composed of a breast-
strap, crupper, and martingale, etc."
The improvements of the present age do not ap-
pear to have developed any thing advantageous to
the saddle; on the contrary, after exi^erimenting
upon numerous modifications and inventions, public
sentiment has at length given the preference to the
saddle-tree of the natives in Asia and America,
which is very similar to that of the Hungarians.
SORES AND DISEASES.
If a horse be sweating at the time he is imsad-
dled, it is well to strap the folded saddle-blanket
upon his back with the surcingle, where it is allow-
ed to remain until he is perfectly dry. This causes
124 PEAIEIE TEAVELEK.
the back to cool gradually, and prevents scalding or
swelling. Some persons are in the habit of washing
their horses' backs while heated and sweatmg with
cold water, but this is pernicious, and often pro-
duces sores. It is well enough to wash the back
after it cools, but not before. After horses' backs
or shoulders once become chafed and sore, it is very-
difficult to heal them, particularly when they are
continued at work. It is better, if practicable, to
stop using them for a while, and wash the bruised
parts often with castile soap and water. Should it
be necessary, however, to continue the animal in
use, I have known very severe sores entirely healed
by the free application of grease to the parts imme-
diately after halting, and while the animal is warm
and sweating. This seems to harden the skin and
heal the wound even when working with the collar
in contact with it. A piece of bacon rind tied
upon the collar over the wound is also an excellent
remedy.
In Texas, when the horse -files are numerous,
they attack animals without mercy, and where a
contusion is found in the skin they deposit eggs,
which speedily produce worms in great numbers.
I have tried the effisct of spirits of turpentine and
several other remedies, but nothing seemed to have
the desired efiect but calomel blown into the wound,
which destroyed the worms and soon eiffected a
cure.
In the vicinity of the South Pass, upon the Hum-
SOKES AND DISEASES. 125
boldt River, and in some sections upon other routes
to California, alkaline water is found, which is very
poisonous to animals that drink it, and generates a
disease known in California as " alkali.^'' This dis-
ease first makes its appearance by swelhngs upon
the abdomen and between the fore legs, and is at-
tended w^ith a cough, which ultimately destroys the
lungs and kills the animal. If taken at an early
stage, this disease is curable, and the following
treatment is generally considered as the most effi-
cacious. The animal is first raked, after which a
large dose of grease is j^oured down its throat;
acids are said to have the same efiect, and give im-
mediate relief. When neither of these remedies can
be procured, many of the emigrants have been in
the habit of mixing starch or flour in a bucket of
water, and allowing the animal to drink it. It is
supposed that this forms a coating over the mucous
membrane, and thus defeats the action of the poison.
Animals should never be allowed to graze in the
vicmity of alkaline water, as the deposits upon the
grass after floods are equally deleterious with the
water itself.
In seasons when the water is low in the Hum-
boldt River, there is much less danger of the alkali,
as the running water in the river then comes from
pure mountain springs, and is confined to the chan-
nel; whereas, during high water, when the banks
are overflowed, the salts are dissolved, making the
water more impure.
126 PEAIEIE TKAVELEE.
For colic^ a good remedy is a mixture of two
table-spoonfuls of brandy and two tea-spoonfuls of
laudanum dissolved in a bottle of water and poured
down the animal's throat. Another remedy, which
has been recommended to me by an experienced
officer as producing speedy relief, is a table-spoon-
ful of chloride of lime dissolved in a bottle of water,
and administered as in the other case.
RATTLESNAKE BITES.
Upon the southern routes to California rattle-
snakes are often met with, but it is seldom that any
person is bitten by them ; yet this is a possible con-
tingency, and it can never be amiss to have an an-
tidote at hand.
Hartshorn applied externally to the wound, and
drunk in small quantities diluted with water wdien-
ever the patient becomes faint or exhausted from
the effects of the poison, is one of the most common
remedies.
In the absence of all medicines, a string or liga-
ture should at once be bound firmly above the
puncture, then scarify deeply with a knife, suck out
the poison, and spit out the saliva.
Andersson, in his book on Southwestern Africa,
says : " In the Cape Colony the Dutch farmers re-
sort to a cruel but apparently effective plan to coun-
teract the bad effects of a serpent's bite. An in-
cision having been made in the breast of a living
fowl, the bitten part is applied to the wound. li'
EATTLESNAKE BITES. 127
the poison be very deadly, the bh'd soon evinces
symptoms of distress, becomes drowsy, droops its
head, and dies. It is replaced by a second, a third,
and more if requisite. "When, however, the bird
no longer exhibits any of the signs just mentioned,
the patient is considered out of danger. A frog
similarly applied is supposed to be equally effica-
cious."
Haunberg, in his Travels in South Africa, men-
tions an antidote against the bite of serpents. He
says : " The blood of the turtle was much cried up,
which, on account of this extraordinary virtue, the
inhabitants dry in the form of small scales or mem-
branes, and carry about them when they travel in
this country, wliich swarms with this most noxious
vermin. Whenever any one is wounded by a ser-
pent, he takes a couple of pinches of the dried
blood internally, and ajDplies a little of it to the
wound."
I was present upon one occasion when an Indian
child was struck in the fore finger by a large rattle-
snake. His mother, who was near at the time,
seized him in her arms, and, placing the wounded
finger in her mouth, sucked the poison from the
puncture for some minutes, repeatedly spitting out
the saliva ; after which she chewed and mashed
some plantain leaves and apphed to the wound.
Over this she sprinkled some finely-powdered to-
bacco, and wrapped the finger up in a rag. I did
not observe that the child sufiered afterward the
128 PEAIRIE TEAVELEK.
least pain or inconvenience. The immediate appli-
cation of the remedies probably saved his Hfe.
Irritation from the bite of gnats and musquitoes,
etc., may be relieved by chewing the plantain, and
rubbing the spittle on the bite.
I knew of another instance near Fort Towson, in
Northern Texas, where a small child was left upon
the earthen floor of a cabin while its mother was
washing at a spring near by. She heard a cry of
distress, and, on going to the cabin, what was her
horror on seemg a rattlesnake coiled around the
child's arm, and striking it repeatedly with its fangs.
After killing the snake, she hurried to her nearest
neighbor, procured a bottle of brandy, and returned
as soon as possible ; but the poison had already so
operated upon the arm that it was as black as a
negro's. She poured down the child's throat a
huge draught of the hquor, w hich soon took efiect,
making it very drunk, and stopped the action of the
poison. Although the child was relieved, it remain-
ed sick for a long time, but ultimately recovered.
A man was struck in the leg by a very large rat-
tlesnake near Fort Belknap, Texas, in 1853. 'No
other remedy being at hand, a small piece of indigo
was pulverized, made into a poultice with water,
and applied to the jDuncture. It seemed to draw
out the poison, turning the indigo white, after
which it was removed and another poultice applied.
These applications were re2:)eated until the indigo
ceased to change its color. The man was then car-
RATTLESNAKE BITES. 129
ried to the hospital at Fort Belknap, and soon re-
covered, and the surgeon of the post pronounced it
a very satisfactory cure.
A Chickasaw woman, who was bitten upon the
foot near Fort Washita by a ground rattlesnake (a
very venomous species), drank a bottle of whisky
and applied the indigo poultice, and when I saw
her, three days afterward, she was recovering, but
the flesh around the wound sloughed away.
A Delaware remedy, which is said to be effica-
cious, is to burn powder upon the wound, but I
have never known it to be tried excepting upon a
horse. In this case it was successful, or, at aU
events, the animal recovered.
Of all the remedies known to me, I should de-
cidedly prefer ardent spirits. It is considered a
sovereign antidote among our "Western frontier set-
tlers, and I would make use. of it -with great confi-
dence. It must be taken mitil the patient becomes
very much intoxicated, and this requires a large
quantity, as the action of the poison seems to coun-
teract its effects.
Should the fangs of the snake penetrate deep
enough to reach an artery, it is probable the person
would die in a short time. I imaguie, however,
that this does not often occur.
The following remedial measures for the treat-
ment of the bites of poisonous rei3tiles are recom-
mended by Dr. PhiUp Weston in the London Lan-
cet for July, 1859:
I
130 PEAIEIE TEAVELEK.
1. The application of a ligature round tlie limb
close to the wound, between it and the heart, to
arrest the return of venous blood.
2. Excision of the bitten parts, or free incision
through the wounds made by the poison-teeth, sub-
sequently encouraging the bleeding by warm solu-
tions to favor the escape of the poison from the
circulation.
3. Cauterization widely round the limb of the
bite with a strong solution of nitrate of silver, one
drachm to the ounce, to prevent the mtroduction
of the poison into the system by the lymphatics.
4. As soon as indications of the absorption of the
poison into the circulation begin to manifest them-
selves, the internal administration of ammonia in
aerated or soda-water every quarter of an hour, to
support the nervous energy and allay the distress-
ing thirst.
" But," he continues, " there is yet wanting some
remedy that shall rapidly counteract the poison in-
troduced into the blood, and assist in expelling it
from the system. The well-authenticated accounts
of the success attending the internal use of arsenic
in injuries arising from the bites of venomous rep-
tiles in the East and West Indies, and also in Africa,
and the well-known properties of this medicme as a
powerful tonic and alterative in conditions of im-
paired vitality of the blood arising from the absorp-
tion of certain blood-poisons, would lead me to in-
clude this agent in the treatment already mention-
EATTLESNAKE BITES. 131
ed. It should be administered in combination with
ammonia, in full doses, frequently repeated, so as to
neutralize quickly the poison circulating in the blood
before it can be eliminated from the system. This
could readily be accomplished by adding ten to fif-
teen minims of Fowler's solution to the compound
spirit of ammonia, to be given every quarter of an
hour in aerated or soda-water, until the vomiting
and the more urgent symptoms of collapse have
subsided, subsequently repeating the dose at longer
intervals until reaction had become fully established,
and the patient reheved by copious bilious dejec-
tions."
Cedron^ which is a nut that grows on the Isth-
mus of Panama, and which is sold by the druggists
in New York, is said to be an infallible antidote to
serpent-bites. Li the Bullet, de VAcad. de Med. for
February, 1858, it is stated that a man was bitten
at Panama by a coral snaJce^ the most poisonous spe-
cies on the Isthmus. During the few seconds that
it took him to take the cedron from his bag, he was
seized with violent pains at the heart and throat;
but he had scarcely chewed and swallowed a piece
of the nut about the size of a small bean, when the
pains ceased as by magic. He chewed a little
more, and applied it externally to the wound, when
the pains disappeared, and were followed by a co-
pious evacuation of a substance like curdled milk.
Many other cases are mentioned wliere the cedron
proved an antidote.
132 PKAIEIE TRAVELEK.
CHAPTER V.
Biyouacs. — Tente d'Abri. — Gutta-percha Knapsack Tent. —
Comanche Lodge. — Sibley Tent. — Camp Fm-niture. — Lit-
ters.— Eapid Traveling. — Fuel. — Making Fires. — Fires on
the Prairies. — Jerking Meat. — Making Lariats, — Making
Caches, — Disposition of Fire-arms. — Colt's Eevolvers. —
Gun Accidents. — Trailing. — Indian Sagacity.
BIVOUACS AND TENTS.
In traveling with pack animals it is not always
convenient or practicable to transport tents, and the
traveler's ingenuity is often taxed in devising the
most available means for making himself comforta-
ble and secure against winds and storms. I have
often been astonished to see how soon an expe-
rienced voyager, without any resources save those
provided by nature, will erect a comfortable shelter
in a place where a person having no knowledge of
woodcraft would never think of such a thing.
Almost all people in different parts of the world
have their own peculiar methods of bivouacking.
In the severe climate of Thibet, Dr. Hooker in-
forms us that they encamp near large rocks, which
absorb the heat during the day, and give it out
slowly during the night. They form, as it were,-
reservoirs of caloric, the influence of which is ex-
ceedingly grateful during a cold night.
BIVOUACS AND TENTS. 133
In the polar regions the Esqnimanx live and
make themselves comfortable in huts of ice or snow,
and with no other combustible but oil.
The natives of Australia bury their bodies in the
sand, keeping their heads only above the surface,
and thus sleep warm during the chilly nights of
that climate.
Fortunately for the health and comfort of travel-
ers upon the Plains, the atmosphere is pure and dry
during the greater part of the year, and it is seldom
that any rain or dew is seen; neither are there
marshes or ponds of stagnant water to generate pu-
trid exhalations and poisonous malaria. The night
air of the summer months is soft, exhilarating, and
delightful. Persons may therefore sleep in it and
inhale it with perfect impunity, and, indeed, many
prefer this to breathing the confined atmosphere of
a house or tent.
During the rainy season only is it necessary to
seek shelter. In traveling with covered wagons
one always has protection from storms, but with
pack trains it becomes necessary to improvise the
best substitutes for tents.
A very secure protection against storms may be
constructed by planting firmly in the ground two
upright poles, with forks. at their tops, and crossing
them with a light pole laid in the forks. A gutta-
percha cloth, or sheet of canvas, or, in the absence
of either of these two, blankets, may be attached by
one side to the horizontal pole, the opposite edge
134 PEAIEIE TRAVELEE.
being stretched out to the windward at an angle of
about forty-five degrees to the ground, and there
fastened with wooden pins, or with buckskin strings
tied to the lower border of the cloth and to pegs
UAJLF-FACED CAMP.
driven firmly into the earth. This forms a shelter
for three or four men, and is a good defense against
winds and rains. If a fire be then made in front,
the smoke will be carried away, so as not to incom-
mode the occupants of the bivouac.
This is called a " half-faced" camp.
Another method practiced a great deal among
mountain men and Indians consists in placing sev-
eral rough poles equidistant around in a half circle,
and bringing the small ends together at the top,
where they are bound wijth a thong. This forms
the conical frame-work of the bivouac, which, when
covered with a cloth stretched around it, makes a
very good shelter, and is preferable to the half-
faced camp, because the sides are covered.
BIVOUACS AND TENTS.
135
CONICAL BIVOUAC.
When no cloths, blankets, or hides are at hand
to be placed over the poles of the lodge, it may be
covered with green boughs laid on compactly, so
as to shed a good deal of rain, and keep out the
wind in cold weather. We adopted this descrip-
tion of shelter in crossing the Rocky Moxmtains
during the winter of 1857-8, and thus formed a
very effectual protection against the bleak winds
which sweep with great violence over those lofty
and inhospitable sierras. We always selected a
dense thicket for our encampment, and covered the
lodges with a heavy coatmg of pine boughs, wattling
them together as compactly as possible, and piling
snow upon the outside in such a manner as to make
them quite impervious to the wmd. The fires were
then kindled at the mouths of the lodges, and our
136 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
heads and bodies were completely sheltered, while
our feet were kept warm by the fires.
The French troops, while serving in the Crimea,
used what they call the te7ite cVah% or shelter tent,
which seems to have been received with great favor
in Europe. It is composed of two, four, or six
square pieces of cloth, with buttons and button-
holes adjusted upon the edges, and is pitched by
planting two upright stakes in the ground at a dis-
tance corresponding with the length of the canvas
when buttoned together. The tAVO sticks are con-
nected by a cord passed around the top of each,
drawn tight, and the ends made fast to pins driven
firmly into the ground. The canvas is then laid
over the rope between the sticks, spread out at an
angle of about forty-five degrees, and the loAver
edges secured to the earth with wooden pins.
This makes some defense against the weather, and
was the only shelter enjoyed by the mass of the
French army in the Crimea up to October, 1855.
For a permanent camp it is usual to excavate a
shallow basement under the tent, and to bank up
the earth on the outside in cold weather. It is de-
signed that upon marches the teiite cPahri shall be
taken to pieces and carried by the soldiers.
A tent, invented by an officer of the U. S. Army,
has recently been prepared by Mr. John Rider, 165
Broadway, New York, which is called the " tent
hnapsackP It has been examined by a board of
army officers, and recommended for adoption in our
military service.
riVOUACS AND TENTS.
137
TENT KNArSACK.
This tent is somewhat similar to the tente Wdbri^
and is pitched in the same manner, but it has this
advantage, that each separate piece may be con-
verted into a water-proof knapsack.
The following extracts from the Report of the
Board go to show that this tent knapsack will be
useful to parties traveHng on the prairies with pack
trains :
138 PRAIEIE TEAVELEE.
" It is a piece of gutta-percha 5 feet 3 inches long,
and 3 feet 8 inches wide, with double edges on one
side, and brass studs and button-holes along two
edges, and straps and buckles on the fourth edge ;
the whole weighing three pounds ; two sticks, 3 feet
8 inches long by li inches in diameter, and a small
cord. When used as a knapsack, the clothing is
packed in a cotton bag, and the gutta-percha sheet
is folded round it, lapping at the ends. The cloth-
ing is thus protected by two or three thicknesses
of gutta-percha, and in this respect there is a supe-
riority over the knapsack now used by our troops.
Other advantages are, that the tent knapsack has
no seams, the parts at which those in use wear out
soonest ; it adapts itself to the size of the contents,
so that a compact and portable bundle can be made,
whether the kit be entire or not ; and, with the cot-
ton bag, it forms a convenient, commodious, and
durable receptacle for all a soldier's clothing and
necessaries.
" On a scout a soldier usually carries only a blank-
et, overcoat, and at most a single shirt, pair of
drawers, and a pair of socks, all of which can be
packed in the tent knapsack in a small bundle, per-
fectly protected from rain, and capable of being
suspended from the shoulders and carried with
comfort and ease during a march.
" 2d. As a shelter. The studs and eyelets along
two edges of the tent knapsack are for the purpose
of fastening a number of them together, and thus
making a sheet of larger dimensions.
" A sheet formed by fastening together four knap-
sacks was exhibited to the Board, stretched upon a
frame of wood. When used in service the sheet is
to be stretched on a rope supported by two poles,
or by two rifles, muskets, or carbines, and pinned
down at the sides with six pins, three on each side.
',t M*,,' I' ',
BIVOUACS AND TEXTS. 141
"The sheet of four knapsacks is 10 feet 6 inches
long, and 1 feet 4 inches wide, and when pitched
on a rope 4 feet 4 inches above the ground, covers
a horizontal space 6 feet 6 inches wide, and 7 feet
4 inches long, which will accommodate five men,
and may be made to shelter seven. The sheet can
also be used on the ground, and is a great protection
from dampness, and as a shawl or talma ; indeed, a
variety of advantageous uses to which the gutta-
percha sheet may be put will suggest themselves
to persons using it.
" The Board is satisfied with its merits in all the
uses to which it is proj^osed to be put, and is of
opinion that the gutta-percha tent knapsack may be
adopted in the military service with advantage."
The usual tenement of the prairie tribes, and of
the traders, trappers, and hunters who live among
them, is the Comanche lodge, which is made of
eight straight peeled poles about twenty feet long,
covered with hides or cloth. The lodge is pitched
by connecting the smaller extremities of three of
the poles with one end of a long line. The three
poles are then raised perpendicularly, and the larger
extremities spread out in a tripod to the circumfer-
ence of the circle that is to form the base of the
lodge. The other poles are then raised, laid into
the forks of the three first, and spread out equidis-
tant upon the circle, thus forming the conical frame-
work of the structure. Nine or ten poles are gen-
erally used in one lodge.
The long line attached to the tripod is then
wound several times around the top, where the
142 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
poles intersect, and tlie lower end made fast at the
base of the lodge, thus securmg the frame firmly in
its position. The covering, made of buffalo hides,
dressed without the hair, and cut and sewed to-
gether to fit the conical frame, is raised with a pole,
spread out around the structure, and united at the
edges with sharpened wooden pegs, leaving sufii-
cient space open at the bottom for a doorway, which
may be closed with a blanket spread out with two
small sticks, and suspended over the opening.
The lower edge of the lodge is made fast to the
ground with wooden pins. The apex is left open,
with a triangular wing or flap on each side, and the
windward flap constantly stretched out by means
of a pole inserted into a pocket in the end of it,
which causes it to draw like a sail, and thus occa-
sions a draught from the fire built upon the groimd
in the centre of the lodge, and makes it warm and
comfortable in the coldest winter weather. Canvas
makes a very good substitute for the buffalo-skin
covering.
SIBLEY TENT.
A tent has been invented by Major H. H. Sibley,
of the army, which is known as the " Sibley tentP
It is somewhat similar to the Comanche lodge, but
in place of the conical frame-work of poles it has
but one upright standard, resting upon an iron tri-
pod in the centre. The tripod can be used to sus-
pend cooking utensils over the fire, and, when fold-
SIBLEY TENT.
143
ed iq:*, admits the wooden standard between the
legs, thereby reducing the length one half, and
making it more convenient for packing and trav-
eling.
TUE SIBLEY TE>iT.
This tent constituted the entire shelter of the
army in Utah during the wmter of 1 857-8, and,
notwithstanding the severity of the climate in the
elevated locality of Camp Scott, the troops were
quite comfortable, and pleased with the tent.
In permanent camps the Sibley tent may be so
pitched as to give more room by erecting a tripod
upon the outside with three poles high and stout
144 PEAIKIE TEAYELER.
enough to admit of the tent's being suspended by
ropes attached to the apex. This method dispenses
with the necessity of the central upright standard.
When the weather is very cold, the tent may be
made warmer by excavating a basement about three
feet deep, which also gives a wall to the tent, mak-
ing it more roomy.
The tent used in the army will shelter comforta-
bly twelve men.
Captain G. Rhodes, of the English army, in his
recent work uj)on tents and tent-life, has given a
description of most of the tents used in the diiferent
armies in Europe, but, in my judgment, none of
them, in point of convenience, comfort, and econo-
my, will compare with the Sibley tent for campaign-
ing in cold weather. One of its most important
features, that of admitting of a fire within it and of
causmg a draught by the disjoosition of the wings,
is not, that I am aware, possessed by any other
tent. Moreover, it is exempt from the objections
that are urged against some other tents on account
of insalubrity from want of top ventilation to carry
off the impure air during the night.
CAMP rUENITUEE.
The accompanying illustrations present some con-
venient articles of portable camp furniture.
Camp Chair No. 1 is of oak or other hard wood.
Fig. 1 represents it opened for use ; in Fig. 2 it is
closcii for transportation. A is a stout canvas.
CAMP CIIAIK. NO. 1.
CAMP CUAJK8. N08. 2 AND 3,
K
TJjJ.
CAMP TABLE
CAMP FURNITURE. 147
forming tlie back and seat; J, 5, h are iron butt-
hinges ; c, c are leather straps, one inch and a quar-
ter wide, forming the arms ; d is an iron rod, with
nut and screw at one end.
Camp Chair No. 2 is made of sticks tied togeth-
er with thongs of buckskin or raw hide.
Camp Chair No. 3 is a very comfortable seat,
made of a barrel, the part forming the seat being
filled with grass.
Camp Table. Fig. 1 represents the table folded
for transportation ; m Fig. 2 it is spread out for use.
A is the top of the table ; a, a are side boards, and
c, c are end boards, turning on butt-hinges, J, 5, h.
Field Cots. In No. 1, A represents the cot put
up for use; B^ the cot folded for transportation.
The legs turn upon iron bolts nmning through the
head and foot boards ; they are then placed upon
the canvas, and the whole is rolled up around the
side pieces. In No. 2 the upper figure represents
the cot put up for use ; the lower shoAvs it folded
for transportation. JL is a stout canvas ; ^, h are
iron butt-hinges ; c, c, the legs ; c?, c?, leather straps,
with buckles, which hold the legs firm ; f^ f^ ends,
which fold upon hinges ; </, g^ cross-bars from leg to
leg. This cot is strong, light, and portable.
Camp Bureau. This cut represents two chests,
A^ A, with their handles, a, a; the covers taken
ofi", they are placed one upon the other, and secured
by the clamps J3, B ; d shows the division between
the two chests. When it is to be transported, the
X
FIELD GOT. KO. 2.
i
1?^^»^«^
/
!
^^S
^r^,^^;^
^^^-.•■.
c
#
#
#
Ifflii
#
J)
#
#
SJa
-(^
Bi
CAMP BUREAU.
MESS-OUEST.
150 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
knobs, c, are unscrewed from the drawers, the look-
ing-glass, /*, is removed, the drawers are filled with
clothing, etc., and the lids are screwed on.
Mess-chest. A represents the chest open for
table; ^ is the same closed; C is the upper tray
of tin, with compartments, b, b ; ^ is the lower
wooden tray, divided into compartments, a, a, for
various purposes, and made fast to the bottom of
the chest ; c?, d are lids opening with hinges ; f
(in figure B) is a wooden leg, turning upon a hinge,
and fitting snugly between two pieces of wood
screwed upon the cover.
LITTERS.
Should a party traveling with pack animals, and
without ambulances or wagons, have one of its
members wounded or taken so sick as to be unable
to walk or ride on horseback, a litter may be con-
structed by taking two poles about twenty feet in
length, uniting them by two sticks three feet long
lashed across the centre at six feet apart, and
stretching a piece of stout canvas, a blanket, or
hide between them to form the bed. Two steady
horses or mules are then selected, placed between
the poles in the front and rear of the litter, and the
ends of the poles made fast to the sides of the ani-
mals, either by attachment to the stirrups or to the
ends of straps secured over their backs.
The patient may then be placed upon the litter,
and is ready for the march.
LITTEKS. 153
Tho elasticity of the long poles gives an easy mo-
tion to the conveyance, and makes this method of
locomotion much more comfortable than might be
supposed.
The prairie Indians have a way of transporting
their sick and children upon a htter very similar in
construction to the one just described, excepting
that one animal is used instead of two. One end
of the litter is made fast to the sides of the animal,
while the other end is left to trail upon the ground.
A projection is raised for the feet to rest against
and prevent the patient from sliding down. In-
stead of canvas, the Indians sometimes lash a large
willow basket across the poles, in which they place
the person to be transported. The animals har-
nessed to the litter must be carefully conducted
upon the march, and caution used in passing over
rough and broken ground.
A very convenient and comfortable method of
packing a sick or wounded man when there are no
animals disposable, and which is sometimes resorted
to by the Indians, is to take two small poles about
ten feet long, and lash three cross-pieces to them,
one in the centre, and the other two about eighteen
inches from the ends. A blanket or hide is then
secured firmly to this frame, and the patient placed
upon it under the centre cross-piece, which prevents
him from falling out. Two men act as carriers,
walkmg between the ends of the long poles. The
patient may be protected against the rain or sun by
154
PEAIBIE TRAVELER.
BAi^P-UTTEK.
bending small wiUows over the frame, and coveiuig
tliem with a cloth.
RAPID TRAVELING.
Small parties with good animals, hght vehicles,
and little lading, may traverse the Plains rapidly
and comfortably, if the following injunctions be
observed.
The day's drive should commence as soon as it
FUEL AND riEE. 155
is light, and, where the road is good, the animals
kept upon a slow trot for about three hours, then
immediately turned out upon the best grass that
can be found for two hours, thus giving time for
grazing and breakfast. After which another drive
of about three hours may be made, making the
noon halt about three hours, when the animals are
again harnessed, and the journey continued until
night.
In passing through a country infested by hostile
Indians, the evening drive should be j)rolonged
until an hour or two after dark, turning off at a
point where the ground is hard, going about half a
mile from the road, and encamping without fires,
in low ground, where the Indians will find it diffi-
cult to track or see the party.
These frequent halts serve to rest and recruit the
animals so that they will, without injury, make
from thirty to forty miles a day for a long time.
Thip ^^owever, can only be done with very fight
If ^ .md vehicles, such, for example, as an ambu-
lance with four mules, only three or four persons,
and a small amount of luggage.
FUEL AND FIRE.
There are long distances upon some of the routes
to California where no other fuel is found but the
dried dung of the buffalo, called by the mountain-
eers " chips," and by the French " bois de vache,"
the argul of the Tartary deserts. It burns weU
156 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
when perfectly dry, answers a good purpose for
cooking, and some men even prefer it to wood.
As it will not burn when wet, it is well, in a coun-
try where no other fuel can be had, when it threat-
ens to rain, for the traveler to collect a supply
before the rain sets in, and carry it in wagons to
the camp. When dry, the chips are easily lighted.
A great saving in fuel may be made by digging
a trench about two feet long by eight inches in
width and depth ; the fires are made in the bottom
of the trench, and the cooking utensils placed upon
the top, where they receive aU the heat. This plan
is especially recommended for windy weather, and
it is convenient at aU times. The wood should be
cut short, and split into small pieces.
It is highly important that travelers should know
the different methods that may be resorted to for
kindling fires upon a march.
The most simple and most expeditious of these
is by using the lucifer matches ; but, unless they are
kept in well-corked bottles, they are hable to be-
come wet, and wiU then fail to ignite.
The most of those found in the shops easily im-
bibe dampness, and are of but little use in the
prairies. Those marked " Van Duser, New York,"
and put up in flat rectangular boxes, are the best I
have met with, and were the only ones I saw which
were not affected by the humid climate of Mexico.
Wax lucifers are better than wooden, as they are
impervious to moisture.
FUEL AND FIRE. 157
I have seen an Indian start a fire with flint and
steel after others had failed to do it with matches.
This was during a heavy rain, when almost aU avail-
able fuel had become wet. On such occasions dry
fuel may generally be obtained under logs, rocks,
or leaning trees.
The inner bark of some dry trees, cedar for in-
stance, is excellent to kindle a fire. The bark is
rubbed in the hand until the fibres are ma^e fine
and loose, when it takes fire easily ; dry grass or
leaves are also good. After a suflicient quantity
of small kindhng fuel has been collected, a moist-
ened rag is rubbed with powder, and a spark struck
into it with a flint and steel, which will ignite it ;
this is then placed in the centre of the loose nest of
inflammable material, and whirled around in the air
until it bursts out into a flame. When it is rain-
ing, the blaze should be laid upon the dryest spot
that can be found, a blanket held over it to keep
off the water, and it is fed with very small bits of
dry wood and shavings until it has gained sufficient
strength to burn the larger damp wood. When
no dry place can be found, the fire nmy be started
in a kettle or frying-pan, and afterward transferred
to the ground.
Should there be no other means of starting a fire,
it can always be made with a gun or pistol, by
placing upon the ground a rag saturated with
damp powder, and a httle dry powder sprinkled
over it. The gun or pistol is then (uncharged)
158 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
placed with the cone directly over and near the
rag, and a cap exj^loded, which will invariably ig-
nite it. Another method is by placing about one
fourth of a charge of powder into a gun, pushing a
rag down loosely upon it, and firing it out with the
muzzle down near the ground, which ignites the
rag.
The most difficult of all methods of making a fire,
but one that is practiced by some of the Western
Indians, is by friction between two pieces of wood.
I had often heard of this process, but never gave
credit to its practicability until I saw the experi-
ment successfully tried. It was done in the follow-
ing manner : Two dried stalks of the Mexican soap-
plant, about three fourths of an inch in diameter,
were selected, and one of them made flat on one
side ; near the edge of this flat surface a very small
indentation was made to receive the end of the
other stick, and a groove cut from this down the
side. The other stick is cut with a rounded end,
and placed upright upon the first. One man then
holds the horizontal piece upon the ground, while
another takes the vertical stick between the palms
of his hands, and turns it back and forth as rapidly
as possible, at the same time pressing forcibly down
upon it. The point of the upright stick wears away
the indentation into a fine powder, which runs ofi*
to the ground in the groove that has been cut ; after
a time it begins to smoke, and by continued friction
it will at length take fire.
FUEL AND FIEE. 159
This is an operation that is difficult, and requires
practice; but if a drill-stick is used Avith a cord
placed around the centre of the upright stick, it can
be turned much more rapidly than with the hands,
and the fire j^roduced more readily. The upright
stick may be of any hard, dry wood, but the low-
er horizontal stick must be of a soft, inflammable na-
ture, such as pine, cottonwood, or black walnut, and
it must be perfectly dry. The Indians work the
sticks with the palms of the hands, holding the low-
er piece between the feet ; but it is better to have
a man to hold the lower piece while another man
works the drill-bow.
Inexperienced travelers are very liable, in kindling
fires at their camp, to ignite the grass around them.
Great caution should be taken to guard against the
occurrence of such accidents, as they might prove
exceedingly disastrous. We were very near hav-
ing our entire train of wagons and supplies destroy-
ed, ujDon one occasion, by the carelessness of one of
our party in setting fire to the grass, and it was
only by the most strenuous and well-timed efibrts
of two hundred men in setting counter fires, and
burning around the train, that it was saved. When
the grass is dry it will take fire like powder, and if
thick and tall, with a brisk wind, the flames run like
a race-horse, sweeping every thing before them. A
lighted match, or the ashes from a segar or pipe,
thrown carelessly into the dry grass, sometimes sets
it on fire ; but the greatest danger lies in kindling
camp-fires.
160 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
To prevent accidents of this kind, before kindling
the fire a space should be cleared away sufficient to
embrace the limits of the flame, and all combusti-
bles removed therefrom, and while the fire is being
made men should be stationed around with blankets
ready to put it out if it takes the grass.
When a fire is approaching, and escape from its
track is impossible, it may be repelled in the follow-
ing manner : The train and animals are parked com-
pactly together ; then several men, provided with
blankets, set fire to the grass on the lee side, burn-
ing it away gradually from the train, and extinguish-
ing it on the side next the train. This can easily
be done, and the fire controlled mth the blankets,
or with dry sand thrown upon it, until an area large
enough to give room for the train has been burned
clear. Now the train moves on to this ground of
safety, and the fire passes by harmless.
JERKING MEAT.
So pure is the atmosphere in the interior of our
continent that fresh meat may be cured, or jerked^
as it is termed in the language of the prairies, by
cutting it into strips about an inch thick, and hang-
ing it in the sun, where in a few days it will dry so
well that it may be packed in sacks, and transport-
ed over long journeys without putrefying.
When there is not time to jerk the meat by the
slow process described, it may be done in a few
hours by building an open frame-work of small
LARIATS. 161
Sticks about two feet above the ground, placing the
strips of meat upon the top of it, and keeping up a
slow fire beneath, which dries the meat rapidly.
The jerking process may be done upon the march
without any loss of time by stretching lines from
front to rear upon the outside of loaded wagons,
and suspending the meat upon them, where it is al-
lowed to remain until sufficiently cured to be pack-
ed away. Salt is never used in this process, and is
not required, as the meat, if kept dry, rarely putre-
fies.
If travelers have ample transportation, it will be
a wise precaution, in passing through the buffalo
range, to lay in a supply of jerked meat for future
exigences.
LARIATS.
It frequently happens upon long journeys that the
lariat ropes wear out or are lost, and if there were
no means of replacing them great inconvenience
might result therefrom. A very good substitute
may be made by taking the green hide of a buffalo,
horse, mule, or ox, stretching it upon the ground,
and pinning it do^vn by the edges. After it has
been well stretched, a circle is described with a piece
of charcoal, embracing as much of the skin as prac-
ticable, and a strip about an inch wide cut from the
outer edge of sufficient length to form the lariat.
The strip is then wrapped around between two
trees or stakes, drawn tight, and left to dry, after
L
162 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
which it is subjected to a process of friction until it
becomes pHable, when it is ready for use ; this lariat
answers well so long as it is kept dry, but after it
has been wet and dried again it becomes very hard
and unyielding. This, however, may be obviated
by boiling it in oil or grease until thoroughly satu-
rated, after which it remains pliable.
The Indians make very good lariat ropes of dress-
ed buffalo or buck skins cut into narrow strips and
braided ; these, when oiled, slip much more freely
than the hemp or cotton ropes, and are better for
lassoing animals, but they are not as suitable for
picketing as those made of other material, because
the wolves will eat them, and thus set free the ani-
mals to which they are attached.
cach:6s.
It not unfrequently happens that travelers are
compelled, for want of transportation, to abandon a
portion of their luggage, and if it is exposed to the
keen scrutiny of the thieving savages who often
follow the trail of a party, and hunt over old camps
for such things as may be left, it will be likely to
be appropriated by them. Such contingencies have
given rise to a method of secreting articles called
by the old French Canadian voyagers " caching P
The proper places for making caches are in loose
sandy soils, where the earth is dry and easUy ex-
cavated. Near the bank of a river is the most con-
venient for this purpose, as the earth taken out
CACHES. 1G3
can be thrown into the water, leaving no trace be-
hind.
When the spot has been chosen, the turf is care-
fully cut and laid aside, after which a hole is dug in
the shape of an egg, and of sufficient dimensions to
contain the articles to be secreted, and the earth, as
it is taken out, thrown upon a cloth or blanket, and
carried to a stream or ravine, where it can be dis-
posed of, being careful not to scatter any upon the
ground near the cache. The hole is then lined with
bushes or dry grass, the articles placed within, cov-
ered with grass, the hole filled up with earth, and
the sods carefully placed back in their original posi-
tion, and every thing that would be likely to attract
an Indian's attention removed from the locahty.
If an India-rubber or gutta-percha cloth is disposable,
it should be used to envelop the articles in the cache.
Another plan of making a cache is to dig the hole
inside a tent, and occuj^y the tent for some days
after the goods are deposited. This efiaces the
marks of excavation.
The mountain traders were formerly in the habit
of building fires over their caches, but the Indians
have become so familiar with this practice that I
should think it no longer safe.
Another method of caching which is sometimes
resorted to is to place the articles in the top of an
evergreen tree, such as the pine, hemlock, or spruce.
The thick boughs are so arranged around the pack-
ages that they can not be seen from beneath, and
164 PRAIPJE TRAYELEE.
they are tied to a limb to prevent them from be-
ing blown out by the wind. This will only answer
for such articles as will not become injured by the
weather.
Caves or holes in the rocks that are protected
from the rains are also secure deposits for caching
goods, but in every case care must be taken to ob-
literate all tracks or other indications of men having
been near them. These caches will be more secure
when made at some distance from roads or trails,
and in places where Indians would not be likely to
To find a cache again, the bearing and distance
from the centre of it to some prominent object, such
as a mound, rock, or tree, should be carefully de-
termined and recorded, so that any one, on return-
ing to the spot, would have no difficulty in ascer-
taining its position.
DISPOSITION OF FIRE-ARMS.
The mountaineers and trappers exercise a very
wise precaution, on laying down for the night, by
placing their arms and ammunition by their sides,
where they can be seized at a moment's notice.
This rule is never departed from, and they are
therefore seldom liable to be surprised. In Par-
kyns's "Abyssinia," I find the following remarks
upon this subject :
" When getting sleepy, you return your rifle be-
tween your legs, roll over, and go to sleep. Some
DISPOSITION OF FIRE-ARMS. 165
people may think this is a queer place for a rifle ;
but, on the contrary, it is the position of all others
where utility and comfort are most combined. The
butt rests on the arm, and serves as a pillow for
the head; the muzzle points between the knees,
and the arms encircle the lock and breech, so that
you have a smooth pillow, and are always prepared
to start up armed at a moment's notice."
I have never made the experiment of sleeping in
this way, but I should imagine that a gun-stock
would make rather a hard pillow.
Many of our experienced frontier ofiicers prefer
carrying their pistols in a belt at their sides to
placing them in holsters attached to the saddle, as
in the former case they are always at hand when
they are dismounted ; whereas, by the other plan,
they become useless when a man is unhorsed, unless
he has tune to remove them from the saddle, which,
during the excitement of an action, would seldom
be the case.
N'ot withstanding Colt's army and navy sized re-
volvers have been m use for a long time in our
army, officers are by no means of one mind as to
their relative merits for frontier service. The navy
pistol, being more light and portable, is more con-
venient for the belt, but it is very questionable in
my mind whether these qualities counterbalance
the advantages derived from the greater weight of
powder and lead that can be fired from the larger
pistol, and the consequent increased projectile force.
166 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
This point is illustrated by an incident which
fell under my own observation. ' In passing near
the "Medicine-Bow Butte" during the spring of
1858, 1 most unexpectedly encountered and fired at
a full-grown grizzly bear ; but, as my horse had be-
come somewhat blown by a previous gallop, his
breathing so much disturbed my aim that I missed
the animal at the short distance of about fifty yards,
and he ran ofi*. Fearful, if I stoj)ped to reload my
rifle, the bear would make his escape, I resolved to
drive him back to the advanced guard of our escort,
which I could see approaching in the distance ; this
I succeeded in doing, when several mounted men,
armed with the navy revolvers, set off in joursuit.
They approached within a few joaces, and discharged
ten or twelve shots, the most of which entered the
animal, but he still kept on, and his j)rogress did
not seem materially imj)eded by the womids. Aft-
er these men had exhausted their charges, another
man rode up armed with the army revolver, and
fired two shots, Avhich brought the stalwart beast
to the ground. Upon skinning him and making an
examination of the wounds, it was discovered that
none of the balls from the small pistols had, after
passing through his thick and tough hide, pene-
trated deeper than about an inch into the flesh, but
that the two balls from the large pistol had gone
into the vitals and killed him. This test was to
my mind a decisive one as to the relative efiiciency
of the two arms for frontier service, and I resolved
thenceforth to carry the larger size.
DISPOSITION OF FIRE-ARMS. 169
Several different methods are practiced in sling-
ing and carrying fire-arms upon horseback. The
shoulder-strap, with a swivel to hook into a ring
behind the guard, with the muzzle resting down-
ward in a leather cup attached by a strap to the
same staj^le as the stirrup-leather, is a very handy
method for cavalry soldiers to sling their carbines ;
but, the gun being reversed, the joltmg caused by
the motion of the horse tends to move the charge
and shake the powder out of the cone, which ren-
ders it Hable to burst the gun and to miss fire.
An invention of the ISTamaquas, in Africa, de-
scribed by Galton in his Art of Travel, is as fol-
lows:
" Sew a bag of canvas, leather, or hide, of such
bigness as to admit the butt of the gun pretty free-
ly. The straps that support it buckle through a
ring in the pommel, and the thongs by which its
slope is adjusted fasten round the girth below. The
exact adjustments may not be hit uj)on by an un-
practiced person for some little time, but, when they
are once ascertained, the straps need never be shift-
ed. The gun is perfectly safe, and never comes be-
low the arm-pit, even in taking a drop leap ; it is
pulled out in an instant by bringing the elbow in
front of the gun and close to the side, so as to throw
the gun to the outside of the arm ; then, lowering
the hand, the gun is caught up. It is a bungling
way to take out the gun while its barrel lies between
the arm and the body. Any sized gun can be car-
170 PEAIKIE TEAVELEE.
ried in this fashion. It offers no obstacle to mount-
ing or dismounting."
This may be a convenient way of carrying the
gun ; I have never tried it. Of all methods I have
used, I prefer, for hunting, a piece of leather about
twelve inches by four, with a hole cut in each end ;
one of the ends is placed over the pommel of the
saddle, and with a buckskin string made fast to it,
where it remains a permanent fixture. When the
rider is mounted, he places his gun across the strap
upon the saddle, and carries the loose end forward
over the pommel, the gun resting horizontally across
his legs. It will now only be necessary occasional-
ly to steady the gun with the hand. After a little
practice the rider will be able to control it with his
knees, and it will be found a very easy and conven-
ient method of carrying it. When required for
use, it is taken out in an instant by sunply raising
it with the hand, when the loose end of the strap
comes off the pommel.
The chief causes of accidents from the use of
fire-arms arise from carelessness, and I have always
observed that those persons who are most famihar
with their use are invariably the most careful.
Many accidents have happened from carrymg guns
with the cock down ujDon the cap. When in this
position, a blow uj)on the cock, and sometimes the
concussion produced by the falling of the gun, will
explode the cap ; and, occasionally, when the cock
catches a twig, or in the clothes, and lifts it from the
DISPOSITION OP FIEE-AEMS. 171
cap, it will explode. With a gim at half-cock there
is but little danger of such accidents ; for, when the
cock is drawn back, it either comes to the full-cock,
and remains, or it returns to the half-cock, but does
not go down upon the cone. Another source of
very many sad and fatal accidents resultmg from
the most stupid and culpable carelessness is in per-
sons standing before the muzzles of guns and at-
tempting to pull them out of wagons, or to draw
them through a fence or brush in the same position.
If the cock encounters an obstacle in its passage, it
will, of course, be drawn back and fall upon the cap.
These accidents are of frequent occurrence, and the
cause is well understood by all, yet men continue to
disregard it, and their lives pay the penalty of their
indiscretion. It is a wise maxim, which applies
with especial force in campaigning on the prairies,
" Alicays look to your gun^ hut never let your gun
looJc at youP
An equally important maxim might be added to
this : Never to point your gun at a7iother^ whether
charged or uncharged^ and never allow another to
point his gun at you. Young men, before they
become accustomed to the use of arms, are very apt
to be careless, and a large percentage of gun acci-
dents may be traced to this cause. That finished
sportsman and wonderful shot, my friend Captain
Martin Scott, than whom a more gallant soldier
never fought a battle, was the most careful man
with fii'e-arms I ever knew, and up to the time he
172 PKAIRIE TKAVELEE.
received his death- wound upon the bloody field of
Molino del Rey he never ceased his cautionary ad-
vice to young officers upon this subject. His ex-
tended experience and intimate acquaintance with
the use of arms had fully impressed him with its
importance, and no man ever lived whose opinions
upon this subject should carry greater weight. As
incomprehensible as it may appear to persons ac-
customed to the use of fire-arms, recruits are very
prone, before they have been drilled at target prac-
tice with ball cartridges, to place the ball below the
powder in the piece. Officers conducting detach-
ments through the Indian country should therefore
give their special attention to this, and require the
recruits to tear the cartridge and pour all the pow-
der into the piece before the ball is inserted.
As accidents often occur in camp from the acci-
dental discharge of fire-arms that have been capped,
I would recommend that the arms be continually
kept loaded in campaigning, but the caps not placed
upon the cones until they are required for firing.
This will cause but little delay in an action, and will
conduce much to security from accidents.
When loaded fire-arms have been exposed for any
considerable time to a moist atmosphere, they should
be discharged, or the cartridges drawn, and the
arms thoroughly cleaned, dried, and oiled. Too
much attention can not be given in keeping arms
in perfect firing order.
TRAILING. 173
TRAILING.
I know of nothing in the woodman's education
of so much importance, or so difficult to acquire, as
the art of trailing or tracking men and animals.
To become an adept in this art requires the con-
stant practice of years, and with some men a life-
time does not suffice to learn it.
Almost all the Indians whom I have met with
are proficient in this species of knowledge, the fac-
ulty for acquiring which appears to be innate with
them. Exigencies of woodland and prairie-life stim-
ulate the savage from childhood to develop facul-
ties so important in the arts of war and of the chase.
I have seen very few white men Avho were good
trailers, and practice did not seem very materially
to improve their faculties in this regard ; they have
not the same acute perceptions for these things as
the Indian or the Mexican. It is not apprehended
that this difficult branch of woodcraft can be taught
from books, as it pertains almost exclusively to the
school of practice, yet I will give some facts relat-
ing to the habits of the Indians that will facihtate
its acquirement.
A party of Indians, for example, starting out upon
a war excursion, leave their families behind, and
never transport their lodges; whereas, when they
move with their families, they carry their lodges and
other effects. If, therefore, an Indian trail is dis-
covered with the marks of the lodge-poles upon it.
174 PEAIEIE TKAVELER.
it has certainly not been made by a war-party ; but
if the track do not show the trace of lodge-poles, it
will be equally certain that a war or huntmg party
has passed that way, and if it is not desired to come
in conflict with them, their direction may be avoid-
ed. Mustangs or wild horses, when moving from
place to place, leave a trail which is sometimes diffi-
cult to distinguish from that made by a mounted
party of Indians, especially if the mustangs do not
stop to graze. This may be determined by follow-
ing upon the trail until some dung is found, and if
this should lie in a single pile, it is a sure indication
that a herd of mustangs has passed, as they always
stop to relieve themselves, while a party of Indians
would keep their horses in motion, and the ordure
would be scattered along the road. If the trail
pass through woodland, the mustangs will occasion-
ally go under the limbs of trees too low to admit
the passage of a man on horseback.
An Indian, on commg to a trail, will generally tell
at a glance its age, by what particular tribe it was
made, the number of the party, and many other
things connected with it astounding to the unin-
itiated.
I remember, upon one occasion, as I was riding
with a Delaware upon the prairies, we crossed the
trail of a large party of Indians traveling with
lodges. The tracks appeared to me quite fresh, and
I remarked to the Indian that we must be near the
party. " Oh no," said he, " the trail was made two
TRAILING. 1 75
days before, in the morning," at the same time point-
ing with his finger to where the sun would be at
about 8 o'clock. Then, seeing that my curiosity was
excited to know by what means he arrived at this
conclusion, he called my attention to the fact that
there had been no dew for the last two nights, but
that on the previous morning it had been heavy.
He then pointed out to me some spears of grass
that had been pressed down into the earth by the
horses' hoofs, upon which the sand still adhered,
having dried on, thus clearly showing that the grass
was wet when the tracks were made.
At another time, as I was traveling with the same
Indian, I discovered upon the ground what I took
to be a bear-track, with a distinctly-marked impres-
sion of the heel and all the toes. I immediately
called the Indian's attention to it, at the same
time flattering myself that I had made quite an im-
portant discovery, which had escaped his observa-
tion. The fellow remarked with a smile, " Oh no,
captain, may be so he not bear-track." He then
pointed with his gun-rod to some spears of grass
that grew near the impression, but I did not com-
prehend the mystery until he dismounted and ex-
plained to me that, when the wind was blowing, the
spears of grass would be bent over toward the
ground, and the oscillating motion thereby produced
would scoop out the loose sand into the shape I
have described. The truth of this explanation was
apparent, yet it occurred to me that its solution
would have baffled the wits of most white men.
176 PEAIEIE TEAVELER.
Fresh tracks generally show moisture where the
earth has been turned up, but after a short exposure
to the sun they become dry. If the tracks be very
recent, the sand may sometimes, where it is very
loose and dry, be seen running back into the tracks,
and by following them to a place where they cross
water, the earth will be wet for some distance after
they leave it. The droppings of the dung from
animals are also good indications of the age of a
trail. It is well to remember whether there have
been any rains within a few days, as the age of a
trail may sometimes be conjectured in this way. It
is very easy to tell whether tracks have been made
before or after a rain, as the water washes off all
the sharp edges.
It is not a difficult matter to distinguish the
tracks of American horses from those of Indian
horses, as the latter are never shod; moreover,
they are much smaller.
In trailing horses, there will be no trouble while
the ground is soft, as the impressions they leave
will then be deep and distinct ; but when they
pass over hard or rocky ground, it is sometimes a
very slow and troublesome process to foUow them.
Where there is grass, the trace can be seen for a
considerable time, as the grass will be trodden down
and bent in the direction the party has moved;
should the grass have returned to its upright posi-
tion, the trail can often be distinguished by stand-
ing upon it and looking ahead for some distance in
TRAILING. iVY
the direction it has been pursuing; the grass that
has been turned over will show a different shade
of green from that around it, and this often marks
a trail for a long time.
Should all traces of the track be obliterated in
certain localities, it is customary with the Indians
to follow on in the direction it has been pursuing
for a time, and it is quite probable that in some
place where the ground is more favorable it will
show itself again. Should the trail not be recov-
ered in this way, they search for a place where *he
earth is soft, and make a careful exammation, em-
bracing the entire area where it is likely to run.
Indians who find themselves pursued and wish
to escape, scatter as much as possible, with an un-
derstanding that they are to meet again at some
point in advance, so that, if the pursuing party fol-
lows any one of the tracks, it will invariably lead
to the place of rendezvous. If, for example, the
trail pomts in the direction of a mountain pass, or
toward any other place which affords the only pas-
sage through a particular section of country, it
would not be worth while to spend much time in
hunting it, as it would probably be regamed at the
pass.
As it is important in trailing Indians to know at
what gaits they are traveling, and as the appear-
ance of the tracks of horses are not familiar to all,
I have in the following cut represented the prhits
made by the hoofs at the ordinary speed of the
M
178
PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
HOBSE-TEACKS AT ORDINARY SPEED.
TEAILING. 1V9
walk, trot, and gallop, so that persons, in following
the trail of Indians, may form an idea as to the
probability of overtakmg them, and regulate then-
movements accordingly.
In traversing a district of unknown country where
there are no prominent landmarks, and with the
view of returnmg to the point of departure, a pocket
compass should always be carried, and attached by
a string to a button-hole of the coat, to prevent its
being lost or mislaid ; and on starting out, as well
as frequently during the trip, to take the bearing,
and examine the appearance of the country when
facing toward the starting-point, as a landscape
presents a very different aspect when viewing it
from opposite directions. There are few white men
who can retrace their steps for any great distance
unless they take the above precautions in passing
over an unknown country for the first time ; but
with the Indians it is different ; the sense of locality
seems to be innate with them, and they do not re-
quire the aid of the magnetic needle to guide them.
Upon a certain occasion, when I had made a long
march over an unexplored section, and was return-
ing upon an entirely different route without either
road or trail, a Delaware, by the name of " Black
Beaver," who was in my party, on arriving at a
particular point, suddenly halted, and, turning to
me, asked if I recognized the country before us.
Seeing no familiar objects, I rephed in the negative.
He put the same question to the other white men
180 PEAIEIE TRAVELEE.
of the party, all of whom gave the same answers,
whereupon he smiled, and in his quaint vernacular
said, "Injun he don't know nothing. Injun big
fool. White man mighty smart ; he know heap."
At the same time he pointed to a tree about two
hundred yards from where we were then standing,
and informed us that our outward trail ran directly
by the side of it, which proved to be true.
Another time, as I was returning from the Co-
manche country over a route many miles distant
from the one I had traveled in going out, one of
my Delaware hunters, who had never visited the sec-
tion before, on arriving upon the crest of an eminence
in the prairie, pointed out to me a clump of trees in
the distance, remarkmg that our outward track
would be found there. I was not, however, dis-
posed to credit his statement until we reached the
locality and found the road passing the identical
spot he had indicated.
This same Indian would start from any place to
which he had gone by a sinuous route, through an
unknown country, and keep a direct bearing back
to the place of departure ; and he assured me that
he has never, even during the most cloudy or foggy
weather, or in the darkest nights, lost the points of
compass. There are very few white men who are
endowed with these wonderful faculties, and those
few are only rendered proficient by matured expe-
rience.
I have known several men, after they had become
TRAILING. 181
lost in the prairies, to wander about for days with-
out exercising the least judgment, and finally ex-
hibiting a state of mental aberration almost upon
the verge of lunacy. Instead of reasoning upon
their situation, they exhaust themselves rimning
a-head at their utmost speed without any regard to
direction. When a person is satisfied that he has
lost his way, he should stop and reflect upon the
course he has been traveling, the time that has
elapsed since he left his camp, and the probable dis-
tance that he is from it ; and if he is unable to re-
trace his steps, he should keep as nearly in the di-
rection of them as possible ; and if he has a compass,
this will be an easy matter ; but, above all, lie should
guard against following his own track around in a
circle with the idea that he is in a beaten trace.
When he is traveling with a train of wagons
which leaves a plain trail, he can make the distance
he has traveled from camp the radius of a circle iq
which to ride around, and before the circle is de,
scribed he will strike the trail. K the person ha^
no compass, it is always well to make an observa-
tion, and to remember the direction of the wind at
the time of departure from camp ; and as this would
not generally change during the day, it would aflTord
a means of keeping the points of the compass.
In the night Ursa Major (the Great Bear) is not
only useful to find the north star, but its position,
when the pointers will be vertical in the heavens,
may be estimated with sufficient accuracy to determ-
182 PKAIKIE TEAVELEE.
ine the north even when the north star can not be
seen. In tropical latitudes, the zodiacal stars, such
as Orion and Antares, give the east and west bear-
ing, and the Southern Cross the north and south
when Polaris and the Great Bear can not be seen.
It is said that the moss upon the firs and other
trees in Europe gives a certain indication of the
points of compass in a forest country, the greatest
amount accumulating upon the north side of the
trees. But I have often observed the trees in our
own forests, and have not been able to form any
positive conclusions in this way.
DELA WARES AND SHAWNEES. 183
CHAPTER VI.
Guides and Hunters. — Delawares and Shawnees. — Khebirs. —
Black Beaver. — Anecdotes. — Domestic Troubles. — Lodges.
— Similarity of Prairie Tribes to the Arabs. — ^Method of
making War. — Tracking and pursuing Indians. — Method
of attacking them. — Telegraphing by Smokes.
DELAWAEES AND SHAWNEES.
It is highly important that parties making expe-
ditions through an miexplored country should se-
cure the services of the best guides and hunters,
and I know of none who are superior to the Dela-
wares and Shawnee Indians. They have been with
me upon several different occasions, and I have in-
variably found them intelligent, brave, rehable, and
in every respect well quaUfied to fill their positions.
They are endowed with those keen and wonderful
powers in woodcraft which can only be acquired
by instinct, practice, and necessity, and which are
possessed by no other people that I have heard of,
unless it be the khebirs or guides who escort the
caravans across the great desert of Sahara.
General E. Dumas, in his treatise upon the " Great
Desert," pubhshed in Paris, 1856, in speaking of
these guides, says :
" The khebir is always a man of intelligence, of
tried probit}', bravery, and skill. He kiiow.s huvv
184 PEAIEIE TEAVELEK.
to determine his position from the apj^earance of
the stars ; by the experience of other journeys he
has learned all about the roads, wells, and pastures ;
the dangers of certain passes, and the means of
avoiding them ; all the chiefs whose territories it is
necessary to pass through ; the salubrity of the
difierent localities ; the remedies against diseases ;
the treatment of fractures, and the antidotes to the
venom of snakes and scorpions.
" In these vast solitudes, where nothing seems to
indicate the route, where the wind covers up all
traces of the track with sand, the khebir has a
thousand ways of directing himself in the ri^ht
course. In the night, when there are no stars in
sight, by the simple inspection of a handful of grass,
which he examines with his fingers, which he smells
and tastes, he informs himself of his locale without
ever being lost or wandering.
'' I saw with astonishment that our conductor,
although he had but one eye, and that defective,
recognized perfectly the route ; and Leon, the Afri-
can, states that the conductor of his caravan became
blind upon the journey from ophthalmia, yet by
feeling the grass and sand he could tell when we
were approaching an inhabited place.
" Our guide had all the qualities which make a
good khebir. He was young, large, and strong;
he was a master of arms ; his eye commanded re-
spect, and his speech won the heart. But if in the
tent he was affable and winning, once en route he
spoke only when it was necessary, and never
smiled."
The Delawares are but a minute remnant of the
great Algonquin family, whose early traditions de-
clare them to be the parent stock from which the
DELA WARES AND SHAWNEES. 185
other numerous branches of the Algonquin tribes
originated. And they are the same people whom
the first white settlers found so numerous upon the
banks of the Delaware.
When Wilham Penn held his council with the
Delawares upon the ground where the city of Phil-
adelphia now stands, they were as peaceful and un-
warlike in their habits as the Quakers themselves.
They had been subjugated by the Five Nations,
forced to take the appellation of squaws, and forego
the use of arms ; but after they moved west, beyond
the influence of their former masters, their naturally
independent spirit revived, they soon regained their
lofty position as braves and warriors, and the male
squaws of the Iroquois soon became formidable men
and heroes, and so have continued to the present
day. Their war-path has reached the shores of the
Pacific Ocean on the west, Hudson's Bay on the
north, and into the very heart of Mexico on the
south.
They are not clannish in their dispositions like
most other Indians, nor by their habits confined to
any given locality, but are found as traders, trap-
pers, or hunters among most of the Indian tribes
inhabiting our continent. I even saw them living
with the Mormons in Utah. They are among the
Indians as the Jews among the whites, essentially
wanderers.
The Shawnees have been associated with the Del-
awares 185 years. They intermarry and live as one
186 PEAIEIE TKAVELEE.
people. Their present places of abode are upon the
Missouri River, near Fort Leavenworth, and in the
Choctaw Territory, upon the Canadian River, near
Fort Arbuckle. They are familiar with many of
the habits and customs of their pale-faced neigh-
bors, and some of them speak the English language,
yet many of their native characteristics tenaciously
cling to them.
Upon one occasion I endeavored to teach a Del-
aware the use of the comj^ass. He seemed much in-
terested in its mechanism, and very attentively ob-
served the oscillations of the needle. He would move
away a short distance, then return, keeping his eyes
continually fixed upon the needle and the miiform
position into Avhich it settled. He did not, how-
ever, seem to comprehend it in the least, but re-
garded the entire proceeding as a species of necro-
mantic performance got up for his especial benefit,
and I was about putting away the instrument when
he motioned me to stop, and came walking toward
it with a very serious but incredulous countenance,
remarking, as he pointed his finger toward it, " May-
be so he tell he sometime."
The ignorance evinced by this Indian regarding
the uses of the compass is less remarkable than that
of some white men who are occasionally met upon
the frontier.
While surveying Indian lands in the wilds of
Western Texas during the summer ot 1854,1 en-
countered a deputy surveyor traveling on foot, with
DELAWAEES AND SHAWNEES. 187
his compass and cliaiii upon his back. I saluted him
very politely, remarking that I presufned he was a
surveyor, to which he replied, " I reckon, stranger,
I ar that thar individoal."
I had taken the magnetic variation several times,
always with nearly the same results (about 10° 20^) ;
but, in order to verify my observations, I was curi-
ous to learn how they accorded with his own work-
ing, and accordingly inquired of hun what he made
the variation of the compass in that particular local-
ity. He seemed struck with astonishment, took his
compass from his back and laid it upon a log near
by, then facing me, and pointing with his hand to-
ward it, said,
" Straanger, do yer see that thar m^ivvi-ment .^"
to which I rephed in the affirmative. He continued,
" I've o^vned her well-nigh goin on twenty year.
I've put her through the perarries and through the
timber, and now look yeer, straanger, you can just
bet your life on't she never var-rie^ arry time, and
if you'll just follow her sign you'll knock the centre
outer the north star. She never lies, she don't."
He seemed to consider my interrogatory as a di-
rect insinuation that his compass was an imperfect
one, and hence his indignation. Thinking that I
should not get any very important intelligence con-
cerning the variation of the needle from this sur-
veyor, I begged his pardon for questioning the ac-
curacy of his instru-we?i^, bid him good-mornmg,
and continued on ray journey.
188 PRAIKIE TBAV-ELEK.
BLACK BEAVER.
In 1849 I met with a very interesting specimen
of the Delaware tribe whose name was Black Bea-
ver. He had for ten years been in the employ of
the American Fm- Company, and during this time
had visited nearly every point of interest within the
limits of our unsettled territory. He had set his
traps and spread his blanket upon the head waters
of the Missouri and Columbia ; and his wanderings
had led him south to the Colorado and Gila, and
thence to the shores of the Pacific in Southern Cal-
ifornia. His life had been that of a veritable cos-
mopolite, filled with scenes of intense and start-
ling interest, bold and reckless adventure. He was
with me two seasons in the capacity of guide, and
I always found him perfectly reliable, brave, and
competent. His reputation as a resolute, determ-
ined, and fearless warrior did not admit of question,
yet I have never seen a man who wore his laurels
with less vanity.
When I first made his acquaintance I was puzzled
to know what to think of him. He would often, in
speaking of the Prairie Lidians, say to me,
" Captain, if you have a fight, you mustn't count
much on me, for I'ze a big coward. When the
fight begins I 'spect you'll see me run under the
cannon ; Injun mighty 'fraid of big gun."
I expressed my surprise that he should, if what
he told me was true, have gained such a reputation
BLACK BEAVER. 189
as a warrior ; whereupon lie iiiformecl me that many
years previous, when he was a young man, and be-
fore he had ever been in battle, he, with about twen-
ty white men and four Delawares, were at one of the
Fur Company's trading-posts upon the Upper Mis-
souri, engaged in trapping beaver. While there,
the stockade fort was attacked by a numerous band
of Blackfeet Indians, who fought bravely, and seem-
ed determined to annihilate the little band that de-
fended it.
After the investment had been completed, and
there appeared no probability of the attacking
party's abandoning their purpose, " One d — d fool
Delaware" (as Black Beaver expressed it) proposed
to his countrymen to make a sortie, and thereby
endeavor to effect an impression upon the Black-
feet. This, Beaver said, was the last thing he
would ever have thought of suggesting, and it
startled him prodigiously, causing him to tremble
so much that it was with difficulty he could
stand.
He had, however, started from home with the
fixed purpose of becoming a distmguished brave,
and made a great effort to stifle his emotion. He
assumed an air of determination, saying that was
the very idea he was just about to propose ; and,
slapping his comrades upon the back, started to-
ward the gate, telling them to follow. As soon as
the gate was passed, he says, he took particular
care to keep in the rear of the others, so that, in
190 PRAIEIE TEAVELEK.
the event of a retreat, he would be able to reach
the stockade first.
They had not proceeded far before a perfect
shower of arrows came fallmg around them on all
sides, but, fortunately, without doing them harm.
Not fancying this hot reception, those in front pro-
posed an immediate retreat, to which he most glad-
ly acceded, and at once set off at his utmost speed,
expecting to reach the fort first. But he soon dis-
covered that his comrades were more fleet, and
were rapidly passing and leaving him behind. Sud-
denly he stopped and called out to them, " Come
back here, you cowards, you squaws ; what for you
run away and leave brave man to fight alone?"
This taunting appeal to their courage turned them
back, and, with their united efforts, they succeeded
in beating off the enemy immediately around them,
securing their entrance into the fort.
Beaver says when the gate was closed the cap-
tain in charge of the establishment grasped him
warmly by the hand, saying, " Black Beaver, you
are a brave man ; you have done this day what no
other man in the fort would have the courage to do,
and I thank you from the bottom of my heart."
In relating the circumstance to me he laughed
most heartily, thinking it a very good joke, and
said after that he was regarded as a brave war-
rior.
The truth is, my friend Beaver was one of those
few heroes who never sounded his own trumpet;
BLACK BEAVEE. 191
yet no one that knows him ever presumed to ques-
tion his courage.
At another time, while Black Beaver remained
upon the head waters of the Missouri, he was left
in charge of a " cache''' consisting of a quantity of
goods buried to prevent their being stolen by the
Indians. Duruig the time he was engaged upon
this duty he amused himself by hunting in the vi-
cinity, only visiting his charge once a day. As he
was making one of these periodical visits, and had
arrived upon the summit of a hiU overlooking the
locality, he suddenly discovered a large number of
hostile Blackfeet occupying it, and he supposed they
had appropriated aU the goods. As soon as they
espied hhn, they beckoned for him to come down
and have a friendly chat with them.
Knowing that their purpose was to beguile him
into their power, he replied that he did not feel in
a talking humor just at that time, and started off
in another direction, whereupon they haUooed after
him, making use of the most insulting language and
gestures, and asking him if he considered himself a
man thus to run away from his friends, and inti-
mating that, in their opinion, he was an old woman,
who had "better go home and take care of the chil-
dren.
Beaver says this roused his indignation to such a
pitch that he stopped, turned around, and rephed,
" Maybe so ; s'pose three or four of you Injuns
come up here alone, I'll show you if I'ze old wom-
192 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
ans." They did not, however, accept the challenge,
and Beaver rode off.
Although the Delawares generally seem quite
happy in their social relations, yet they are not al-
together exempt from some of those minor discords
which occasionally creep m and mar the domestic
harmony of their more civiUzed pale-faced brethren.
I remember, upon one occasion, I had bivouacked
for the night with Black Beaver, and he had been
endeavoring to while away the long hours of the
evening by relating to me some of the most thrill-
ing incidents of his highly-adventurous and erratic
life, when at length a hiatus in the conversation
gave me an op^jortunity of asking him if he was a
married man. He hesitated for some time ; then
looking up and giving his forefinger a twirl, to imi-
tate the throwing of a lasso, replied, "One time
me catch 'mn wife. I Y>n.j that woman, his modeler^
one hoss — one saddle — one bridle — two plug tobac-
co, and plenty goods. I take him home to my
house — got plenty meat — plenty corn — plenty every
thing. One time me go take walk, maybe so three,
maybe so two hours. When I come home, that
woman he say, 'Black Beaver, what for you go
way long time ?' I say, ' I not go nowhere ; I just
take one littel walk.' Then that woman he get
heap mad, and say, 'No, Black Beaver, you not
take no littel walk. I know what for you go way ;
you go see nodder one woman.'' I say, ' Maybe not.'
Then that woman she cry long time, and all e'time
BLACK BEAVER. 193
now slie macl. You never seen 'Merican woman
that a-way ?"
I sympathized most deeply with my friend in his
distress, and told him for his consolation that, in
my opinion, the women of his nation were not pe-
culiar in this respect ; that they were pretty much
alike all over the world, and I was under the im-
pression that there were well-authenticated instances
even among white women where they had subjected
themselves to the same causes of complaint so feel-
ingly depicted by him. Whereupon he very earn-
estly asked, " What you do for cure him ? Whip
him ?" I replied, " No ; that, so far as my observa-
tion extended, I was under the impression that this
Avas generally regarded by those who had suffered
from its effects as one of those chronic and vexa-
tious complaints which would not be benefited by
the treatment he suggested, even when adminis-
tered in homoeopathic doses, and I believed it was
now admitted by all sensible men that it was better
in all such cases to let nature take its course, trust-
ing to a merciful Providence."
At this reply his countenance assumed a dejected
expression, but at length he brightened up again
and triumj^hantly remarked, " I tell you, my friend,
what I do ; I ketch 'um nodder one wife when I
go home."
Black Beaver had visited St. Louis and the small
towns upon the Missouri frontier, and he prided
himself not a little upon his acquaintance with the
N
194 PEAIEIE TRAYELEE.
customs of the whites, and never seemed more hap-
py than when an opportunity offered to display this
knowledge in presence of his Indian companions.
It so happened, upon one occasion, that I had a
Comanche guide who bivouacked at the same fire
with Beaver. On visiting them one evening ac-
cording to my usual practice, I found them engaged
in a very earnest and api^arently not very amicable
conversation. On inquiring the cause of this, Bea-
ver answered,
"I've been telling this Comanche what I seen
'mong the white folks."
I said, " Well, Beaver, what did you tell him ?"
"I tell him 'bout the steam-boats, and the rail-
roads, and the heap o' houses I seen in St. Louis."
'* Well, sir, what does he thmk of that ?"
"Hesay I'ze d— d fool."
" What else did you tell him about ?"
" I tell him the world is round, but he keep all
e'time say. Hush, you fool ! do you spose I'ze child ?
Haven't I got eyes ? Can't I see the prairie ? You
call him round ? He say, too, maybe so I tell you
something you not know before. One time my
grandfather he make long journey that way (point-
mg to the west). When he get on big mountain,
he seen heap water on t'other side, jest so flat he
can be, and he seen the sun go right straight down
on t'other side. I then tell him all these rivers he
seen, all e'time the water he rmi ; s'pose the world
flat the water he stand still. Maybe so he not
b'heve me ?"
BLACK BEAVER. 195
I told him it certainly looked very much like it.
I then asked him to explain to the Comanche the
magnetic telegraph. He looked at me earnestly,
and said,
" What you call that magnetic telegraph ?"
I said, " you have heard of New York and IsTew
Orleans ?"
" Oh yes," he replied.
" Very well ; we have a wire connecting these
two cities, which are about a thousand miles apart,
and it would take a man thirty days to ride it upon
a good horse. Now a man stands at one end of this
wire in New York, and by touching it a few times
he inquires of his friend in New Orleans what he
had for breakfast. His friend in New Orleans
touches the other end of the wire, and in ten min-
utes the answer comes back — ham and eggs. Tell
him that, Beaver."
His countenance assumed a most comical expres-
sion, but he made no remark until I again requested
him to repeat what I had said to the Comanche,
when he observed,
" No, captain, I not tell hun that, for I don't
b'lieve that myself."
Upon my assurmg him that such was the fact,
and that I had seen it myself, he said,
" Injun not very smart ; sometimes he's big fool,
but he holler pretty loud ; you hear him maybe half
a mile; you say 'Merican man he talk thousand
miles. I 'spect you try to fool me now, captam;
mayhe so yoic lieP
196 PKAIEIE TKAVELEK.
The Indians living between the outer white set-
tlements and the nomadic tribes of the Plains form
intermediate social links in the chain of civilization.
The first of these occupy permanent habitations,
but the others, although they cultivate the soil, are
only resident while their crops are growmg, going
out into the prairies after harvest to spend the win-
ter in hunting. Among the former may be men-
tioned the Cherokees, Creeks, Choctaws, and Chick-
asaws, and of the latter are the Dela wares, Shaw-
nees, Kickapoos, etc., who are perfectly familiar
with the use of the rifle, and, in my judgment,
would make as formidable partisan warriors as can
be found m the universe.
THE WILD TRIBES OF THE WEST.
These are very diflerent in their habits from the
natives that formerly occupied the country border-
ing upon the Atlantic coast. The latter lived per-
manently in villages, where they cultivated the soil,
and never wandered very far from them. They
did not use horses, but always made their war ex-
peditions on foot, and never came into action unless
they could screen themselves behind the cover of
trees. They inflicted the most inhuman tortures
upon their prisoners, but did not, that I am aware,
violate the chastity of women.
The prairie tribes have no permanent abiding
places ; they never plant a seed, but roam for hund-
reds of miles in every direction over the Plains.
THE WILD TEIBES OP THE WEST. 197
They are perfect horsemen, and seldom go to war
on foot. Their attacks are made m the open prai-
ries, and when unhorsed they are powerless. They
do not, like the eastern Indians, inflict ujoon their
prisoners prolonged tortures, but invariably subject
all females that have the misfortune to fall into their
merciless clutches to an ordeal worse than death.
It is highly important to every man passmg
through a country frequented by Indians to know
some of their habits, customs, and propensities, as
this will facilitate his intercourse with friendly
tribes, and enable him, when he wishes to avoid a
conflict, to take precautions against coming in col-
lison with those who are hostile.
Almost every tribe has its own way of construct-
ing its lodges, encamping, making fires, its own
style of dress, by some of which peculiarities the
experienced frontiersman can generally distinguish
them.
The Osages, for example, make their lodges in
the shape of a wagon-top, of bent rods or willows
covered with skins, blankets, or the bark of trees.
The Kickapoo lodges are made in an oval form,
something like a rounded hay-stack, of poles set in
the ground, bent over, and united at top ; this is
covered with cloths or bark.
The Witchetaws, Wacos, Towackanies, and Ton-
kowas erect their hunting lodges of sticks put up in
the form of the frustum of a cone and covered with
brush.
198 PEAIEIE TEAVELEE.
All these tribes leave the frame-work of then*
lodges standing when they move from camj) to
camj), and this, of com'se, indicates the j^articiilar
tribe that erected them.
The Delawares and Shawnees plant two upright
forked poles, place a stick across them, and stretch
a canvas covermg over it, in the same manner as
with the " tente cVahrV
The Sioux, Arapahoes, Cheyennes, Utes, Snakes,
Blackfeet, and Kioways make use of the Comanche
lodge, covered with dressed buiFalo hides.
All the Prairie Indians I have met with are the
most inveterate beggars. They will flock around
strangers, and, in the most importunate manner,
ask for every thing they see, especially tobacco and
sugar ; and, if allowed, they will handle, examine,
and occasionally pilfer such things as happen to take
their fancy. The j^roper way to treat them is to
give them at once such articles as are to be disposed
of, and then, in a firm and decided manner, let them
understand that they are to receive nothmg else.
A party of Keechis once visited my camp w^ith
their principal chief, who said he had some import-
ant business to discuss, and demanded a council
with the capitmi. After consent had been given,
he assembled his principal men, and, going through
the usual preliminary of taldng a hig sniolie^ he
arose, and with a great deal of ceremony com-
menced his pompous and flowery speech, which,
like all others of a similar character, amounted to
THE WILD TEIBES OP THE WEST. 199
nothing, nntil he touched upon the real object of
his visit. He said he had traveled a long distance
over the prairies to see and have a talk with his
white brothers ; that his people were very hungry
and naked. He then approached me with six small
sticks, and, after shaking hands, laid one of the
sticks in my hand, which he said represented sugar,
another signified tobacco, and the other four, pork,
flour, whisky, and blankets, all of which he assured
me his people were in great need of, and must have.
His talk was then concluded, and he sat down, ap-
parently much gratified with the graceful and im-
pressive manner with which he had executed his
part of the performance.
It then devolved upon me to respond to the bril-
liant effort of the prairie orator, which I did in some-
thing like the following manner. After imitating
his style for a short time, I closed my remarks by
telling him that we were j^oor infantry soldiers, who
were always obliged to go on foot ; that we had be-
come very tired of walking, and would like very
much to ride. Furthermore, I had observed that
they had among them many fine horses and mules.
I then took two small sticks, and imitating as near-
ly as possible the manner of the chief, placed one
in his hand, which I told him was nothing more or
less than a first-rate horse, and then the other, which
signified a good large mule. I closed by saying
that I was ready to exchange presents whenever it
suited his convenience.
200 PEAIRIE TRAVELEE.
They looked at each other for some time without
speaking, but finally got up and walked away, and
I was not troubled with them again.
INDIAN FIGHTING.
The military system, as taught and practiced in
our army up to the time of the Mexican war, was,
without doubt, efficient and well adapted to the art
of war among civiHzed nations. This system was
designed for the operations of armies acting in
populated districts, furnishing ample resources, and
against an enemy who was tangible, and made use
of a similar system.
The vast expanse of desert territory that has been
annexed to our domain within the last few years is
peopled by numerous tribes of marauding and er-
ratic savages, who are mounted upon fleet and hardy
horses, making w^ar the business and pastime of
their hves, and acknowledging none of the amelio-
rating conventionaHties of civilized warfare. Their
tactics are such as to render the old system almost
wholly impotent.
To act against an enemy w^ho is here to-day and
there to-morrow ; w^ho at one time stampedes a herd
of mules upon the head Avaters of the Arkansas, and
when next heard from is in the very heart of the
populated districts of Mexico, laying waste hacien-
das, and carrying devastation, rapine, and murder in
his steps ; who is every where without being any
where ; who assembles at the moment of combat,
INDIAN FIGHTING. 201
find vanishes whenever fortune turns agahist hmi ;
who leaves his women and children far distant from
the theatre of hostilities, and has neither towns or
magazines to defend, nor lines of retreat to cover ;
who derives his commissariat from the country he
operates in, and is not encumbered with baggage-
wagons or pack-trains ; who comes into action only
when it suits his purposes, and never without the
advantage of numbers or position — with such an
enemy the strategic science of civilized nations loses
much of its importance, and finds but rarely, and
only in peculiar localities, an opportunity to be j^ut
in practice.
Our little army, scattered as it has been over the
vast area of our possessions, in small garrisons of
one or two companies each, has seldom been in a
situation to act successfully on the ofiensive against
large numbers of these marauders, and has often
been condemned to hold itself almost exclusively
upon the defensive. The morale of the troo23S must
thereby necessarily be seriously impaired, and the
confidence of the savages correspondingly augment-
ed. The system of small garrisons has a tendency
to disorganize the troops in proportion as they are
scattered, and renders them correspondingly inefii-
cient. The same results have been observed by the
French army in Algeria, where, in 1845, their troops
were, like ours, disseminated over a vast space, and
broken up into small detachments stationed in nu-
merous intrenched posts. Upon the sudden appear-
202 PEAIEIE TEAVELEK.
ance of Abd el Kader in the plain of Mitidja, they
were defeated with serious losses, and were from
day to day obliged to abandon these useless star
tions, with aU the suppHes they contained. A French
writer, in discussing this subject, says :
"We have now abandoned the fatal idea of de-
fending Algeria by small intrenched posts. In
studying the character of the war, the nature of
the men who are to oppose us, and of the country
in which we are to operate, we must be convinced
of the danger of admitting any other system of
fortification than that which is to receive our grand
depots, our magazines, and to serve as places to
recruit and rest our troops when exhausted by long
expeditionary movements.
" These fortifications should be established m the
midst of the centres of action, so as to command
the principal routes, and serve as pivots to expedi-
tionary columns.
" We owe our success to a system of war which
has its proofs in twice changing our relations with
the Arabs. This system consists altogether in the
great mobility we have given to our troops. In-
stead of disseminating our soldiers with the vain
hope of protecting our frontiers with a line of small
posts, we have concentrated them, to have them at
all times ready for emergencies, and since then the
fortune of the Arabs has waned, and we have
marched from victory to victory.
" This system, which has thus far succeeded, ought
to succeed always, and to conduct us, God wiUiug,
to the peaceful possession of the country."
In readmg a treatise upon war as it is practiced
by the French in Algeria, by Colonel A. Laure, of
IISDIAN FIGUTING. 203
the 2d Algerine Tirailleurs, published in Paris in
1858, I was struck with the remarkable similarity
between the habits of the Arabs and those of the
wandering tribes that inhabit our Western prairies.
Their mamier of making war is almost precisely the
same, and a successful system of strategic operations
for one will, in my opinion, apply to the other.
As the Turks have been more successful than the
French in their military operations against the Arab
tribes, it may not be altogether uninteresting to
inquire by what means these inferior soldiers have
accomplished the best results.
The author above mentioned, in speaking upon
this subject, says :
" In these latter days the world is occupied with
the organization of mounted infantry, according to
the example of the Turks, where, in the most suc-
cessful experiments that have been made, the mule
carries the foot-soldier.
" The Turkish soldier mounts his mule, puts his
provisions upon one side and his accoutrements
upon the other, and, thus equipped, sets out upon
long marches, traveling day and night, and only re-
posing occasionally in bivouac. Arrived near the
place of operations (as near the break of day as
possible), the Turks dismount in the most profound
silence, and pass in succession the bridle of one
mule through that of another in such a manner
that a single man is sufficient to hold forty or fifty
of them by retaining the last bridle, which secures
all the others ; they then examine their arms, and
are ready to commence their work. The chief
204 PEAIEIE TRAVELER.
gives his last orders, posts his guides, and they
make the attack, surprise the enemy, generally
asleep, and carry the position without resistance.
The operation terminated, they hasten to beat a
retreat, to prevent the neighboring tribes from as-
sembhng, and thus avoid a combat.
"The Turks had only three thousand mounted
men and ten thousand infantry in Algeria, yet these
thirteen thousand men sufficed to conquer the same
obstacles which have arrested us for twenty-six
years, notwithstanding the advantage we had of
an army which was successively re-enforced until it
amounted to a hundred thousand.
"Why not imitate the Turks, then, mount our
infantry upon mules, and reduce the strength of our
army ?
" The response is very simple :
" The Turks are Turks — that is to say, Mussul-
mans— and indigenous to the country ; the Turks
speak the Arabic language ; the Deys of Algiers had
less country to guard than we, and they care A^ery
little about retaining possession of it. They are sat-
isfied to receive a part of its revenues. They were
not permanent ; their dominion was held by a thread.
The Arab dwells in tents ; his magazines are in
caves. When he starts upon a war expedition, he
folds his tent, drives far away his beasts of burden,
which transport his effects, and only carries with
him his horse and arms. Thus equipped, he goes
every where ; nothing arrests him ; and often, when
we believe him twenty leagues distant, he is in am-
bush at precisely rifle range from the flanks of his
enemy.
"It may be thought the union of contingents
might retard their movements, but this is not so.
The Arabs, whether they number ten or a hund-
INDIAN FIGHTING. 205
red thousand, move with equal facility. They go
where they wish and as they wish upon a campaign ;
the place of rendezvous merely is indicated, and they
arrive there.
" What calculations can be made against such an
organization as this ?
" Strategy evidently loses its advantages against
such enemies ; a general can only make conjectures ;
he marches to find the Arabs, and finds them not ;
then, again, when he least exj^ects it, he suddenly
encounters them.
" When the Arab despairs of success in battle,
he places his sole reliance upon the speed of his
horse to escape destruction ; and as he is always in
a country where he can make his camp beside a
little Avater, he travels until he has placed a safe
distance between himself and his enemy."
ISTo people probably on the face of the earth are
more ambitious of martial fame, or entertain a high-
er appreciation for the deeds of a daring and suc-
cessful warrior, than the North American savages.
The attainment of such reputation is the paramount
and absorbing object of their lives ; all their aspira-
tions for distinction uivariably take this channel of
expression. A young man is never considered wor-
thy to occupy a seat in council until he has en-
countered an enemy in battle ; and he who can
count the greatest number of scalps is the most
highly honored by his tribe. This idea is incul-
cated from their earliest infancy. It is not surpris-
ing, therefore, that, with such weighty inducements
before him, the young man who, as yet, has gained
206 PKAIEIE TEAVELEE.
no renown as a brave or warrior, should be less dis-
criminate in his attacks than older men who have
already acquired a name. The yomig braves should,
therefore, be closely watched when encountered on
the Plains.
The prairie tribes are seldom at peace with all
their neighbors, and some of the young braves of a
tribe are almost always absent upon a war excur-
sion. These forays sometimes extend into the heart
of the northern states of Mexico, where the In-
dians have carried on successful invasions for many
years. They have devastated and depopulated a
great portion of Sonora and Chihuahua. The ob-
jects of these forays are to steal horses and mules,
and to take prisoners ; and if it so hapj^ens that a
war-party has been unsuccessful in the accomplish-
ment of these ends, or has had the misfortune to
lose some of its number in battle, they become reck-
less, and will often attack a small party with whom
they are not at war, provided they hoj)e to escape
detection. The disgrace attendant upon a return
to their friends without some trophies as an offset
to the loss of their comrades is a powerful incentive
to action, and they extend but little mercy to de-
fenseless travelers who have the misfortune to en-
counter them at such a conjuncture.
While en route from New Mexico to Arkansas
in 1849 I was encamped near the head of the Colo-
rado River, and wishing to know the character of
the country for a few miles m advance of our posi-
INDIAN FIGHTING. 207
tion, I desired an officer to go out and make the
reconnoissance. I was lying sick in my bed at the
time, or I should have performed the duty myself.
I expected the officer would have taken an escort
with him, but he omitted to do so, and started off
alone. After proceeding a short distance he dis-
covered four mounted Indians coming at full speed
directly toward him, when, instead of turning his
own horse toward camp, and endeavoring to make
his escape (he was well mounted), or of halting and
assuming a defensive attitude, he deliberately rode
up to them; after which the tracks indicated that
they proceeded about three miles together, when the
Lidians most brutally killed and scalped my most
unfortunate but too credulous friend, who might
probably have saved his life had he not, in the kind-
ness of his excellent heart, imagined that the sav-
ages would reciprocate his friendly advances. He
was most woefully mistaken, and his life paid the
forfeit of his generous and noble dis230sition.
I have never been able to get any positive inform-
ation as to the persons who committed this murder,
yet circumstances render it highly probable that
they were a party of young Indians who were re-
turning from an unsuccessful foray, and they were
unable to resist the temptation of taking the scalp
and horse of the lieutenant.
A small number of white men, in traveling upon
the Plains, should not allow a j)arty of strange In-
dians to approach them unless able to resist an at-
tack under the most unfavorable circumstances.
208 PKAIEIE TRAVELEK.
It is a safe rule, when a man finds himself alone
in the prairies, and sees a party of Indians approach-
ing, not to allow them to come near him, and if
they persist in so doing, to signal them to keep away.
If they do not obey, and he be mounted upon a
fleet horse, he should make for the nearest timber.
If the Indians follow and press him too closely, he
should halt, turn around, and point his gun at the
foremost, which will often have the effect of turn-
ing them back, but he should never draw trigger
unless he finds that his life depends upon the shot ;
for, as soon as his shot is delivered, his sole depend-
ence, unless he have time to reload, must be upon
the speed of his horse.
The Indians of the Plains, notwithstanding the
encomiums that have been heaped upon their breth-
ren who formerly occupied the Eastern States for
their gratitude, have not, so far as I have observed,
the most distant conception of that sentiment. You
may confer numberless benefits upon them for years,
and the more that is done for them the more they
will expect. They do not seem to comprehend the
motive which dictates an act of benevolence or
charity, and they invariably attribute it to fear or
the expectation of reward. Wlien they make a
present, it is with a view of getting more than its
equivalent in return.
I have never yet been able to discover that the
Western wild tribes possessed any of those attributes
which among civilized nations are regarded as vir-
:^:
/i/l/ '^^^M^'h
J
INDIAN FIGHTING. 211
tues adorning the human character. They have yet
to be taught the first rudiments of civilization, and
they are at this time as far from any knowledge of
Christianity, and as worthy subjects for missionary
enterprise, as the most untutored natives of the
South Sea Islands.
The only way to make these merciless freebooters
fear or respect the authority of our government is,
when they misbehave, first of all to chastise them
well by striking such a blow as will be felt for a long
time, and thus show them that we are superior to
them in war. They will then respect us much more
than when their good-will is purchased with pres-
ents.
The opinion of a friend of mine, who has passed
the last twenty-five years of his life among the In-
dians of the Rocky Mountains, corroborates the
opinions I have advanced upon this head, and al-
though I do not endorse all of his sentiments, yet
many of them are deduced from long and matured
experience and critical observation. He says :
" They are the most onsartainest varmmts in all
creation, and I reckon tha'r not mor'n half human ;
for you never seed a human, arter you'd fed and
treated him to the best fixins m your lodge, jist
turn round and steal all your horses, or ary other
thing he could lay his hands on. No, not adzackly.
He would feel kinder grateful, and ask you to spread
a blanket in his lodge ef you ever passed that a- way.
But the Injun he don't care shucks for you, and is
212 PKAIIUE TKAVELEE.
ready to do you a heap of miscliief as soon as he
quits your feed. IS'o, Cap.," he continued, " it's not
the right way to give um presents to buy peace ;
but ef I war governor of these yeer United States,
I'll tell you what I'd do. I'd invite um all to a big
feast, and make b'lieve I wanted to have a big talk ;
and as soon as I got um all together, I'd pitch in
and sculp about half of um, and then t'other half
would be mighty glad to make a peace that would
stick. That's the way I'd make a treaty with the
dog' on d, red-bellied varmints; and as sure as you're
born, Cap., that's the only Avay."
I sus^g-ested to him the idea that there would be
a lack of good faith and honor in such a proceed-
ing, and that it would be much more in accordance
with my notions of fair dealing to meet them openly
in the field, and there endeavor to punish them if
they deserve it. To this he replied,
" Tain't no use to talk about honor with them,
Cap. ; they ham't got no such thing in um ; and
they won't show fair fight, any Avay you can fix it.
Don't they kill and sculp a white man Avhen-ar they
get the better on him ? The mean varmints, they'll
never behave themselves until you give um a clean
out and out licking. They can't onderstand white
folks' ways, and they won't learn um ; and ef you
treat um decently, they think you ar afeard. You
may depend on't. Cap., the only way to treht Injuns
is to thrash them well at first, then the balance will
sorter take to you and behave themselves."
MEETING I:N^DIANS. 213
The wealtli of the Prah'ie Indians consists almost
exclusively in their horses, of which they possess
large numbers ; and they are in the saddle from in-
fancy to old age. Horsemanship is with them, as
with the Arab of the Sahara, a necessary part of
their education. The country they occupy is un-
suited to cultivation, and their only avocations are
war, rapine, and the chase. They have no fixed
habitations, but move from place to place with the
seasons and the game. All their worldly effects
are transported in their migrations, and wherever
their lodges are pitched there is their home. They
are strangers to all cares, creating for themselves
no artificial wants, and are perfectly happy and con-
tented so long as the buffalo is found within the
limits of their wanderings. Every man is a soldier,
and they generally exhibit great confidence m their
own military prowess.
MEETING INDIANS.
On approaching strangers these people j^ut their
horses at full speed, and persons not famihar with
their peculiarities and habits might interpret this
as an act of hostility ; but it is their custom with
friends as well as enemies, and should not occasion
groundless alarm.
When a party is discovered approaching thus,
and are near enough to distinguish signals, all that
is necessary in order to ascertain their disposition
is to raise the right hand with the palm in front,
214 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
and gradually push it forward and back several
times. They all understand this to be a command
to halt, and if they are not hostile it will at once be
obeyed.
After they have stoj)ped the right hand is raised
again as before, and slowly moved to the right and
left, which signifies " I do not know you. Who are
you?" As all the wild tribes have their peculiar
pantomimic signals by which they are known, they
will then answer the inquiry by giving their signal.
If this should not be understood, they may be asked
if they are friends by raising both hands grasped
in the manner of shakmg hands, or by locking the
two fore-fingers firmly while the hands are held up.
If friendly, they will respond with the same signal ;
but if enemies, they will probably disregard the
command to halt, or give the signal of anger by
closing the hand, placing it against the forehead,
and turning it back and forth while in that posi-
tion.
The pantomimic vocabulary is understood by all
the Prairie Indians, and when oral communication
is impracticable it constitutes the court or general
council language of the Plains. The signs are ex-
ceedingly graceful and significant ; and, what was a
fact of much astonishment to me, I discovered they
were very nearly the same as those practiced by
the mutes in our deaf and dumb schools, and were
comprehended by them with perfect facility.
The Comanche is represented by making with
MEETING INDIANS. 215
the hand a waving motion in imitation of the crawl-
ing of a snake.
The Cheyenne, or " Cut-arm," by drawing the
hand across the arm, to imitate cuttmg it with a
knife.
The Arapahoes, or " Smellers," by seizing the nose
with the thumb and fore-finger.
The Sioux, or " Cut-throats," by drawing the hand
across the throat.
The Pawnees, or " Wolves," by j)lacing a hand
on each side of the forehead, with two fingers point-
ing to the front, to represent the narrow, sharp ears
of the wolf.
The Crows, by imitating the flapping of the bird's
wings with the palms of the hands.
When Indians meet a party of strangers, and are
disposed to be friendly, the chiefs, after the usual
salutations have been exchanged, generally ride out
and accompany the commander of the party some
distance, holding a friendly talk, and, at the same
time, indulging their curiosity by learning the news,
etc. Phlegmatic and indifierent as they appear to
be, they are very inquisitive and observing, and, at
the same time, exceedingly circumspect and cau-
tious about disclosing their own purposes.
They are always desirous of procuring, from
whomsoever they meet, testimonials of their good
behavior, which they preserve with great care, and
exhibit upon all occasions to strangers as a guaran-
tee of future good conduct.
216 PKAIEIE TEAVELEK.
On meeting with a chief of the Southern Coman-
ches in 1849, after going through the usual cere-
mony of embracing, and assuring me that he was
the best friend the Americans ever had among the
Indians, he exhibited numerous certificates from the
different white men he had met with, testifying to
his friendly disposition. Among these was one that
he desired me to read with special attention, as he
said he was of the opinion that perhaps it might not
be so complimentary in its character as some of the
others. It was in these words :
" The bearer of this says he is a Comanche chief, named
Senaco; that he is the biggest Indian and best friend the
whites ever had ; in fact, that he is a first-rate fellow ; but I
believe he is a d — d rascal, so look out for him.^^
I smiled on reading the paper, and, looking up,
found the chief's eyes intently fixed upon mine
with an expression of the most earnest inquiry. I
told him the paper was not as good as it might be,
whereupon he destroyed it.
Five years after this interview I met Senaco
again near the same place. He recognized me at
once, and, much to my surprise, pronounced my
name quite distinctly.
A circumstance which happened in my interview
with this Indian shows their character for diplo-
matic policy.
I was about locating and surveying a reservation
of land upon which the government designed to es-
tablish the Comanches, and was desirous of ascer-
MEETING INDIANS. 217
taining whether they were disposed vohmtarily to
come into the measure. In this connection, I stated
to him that their Great Father, the President, being
anxious to improve their condition, was wilHng to
give them a permanent location, w^here they could
cultivate the soil, and, if they Avished it, he would
send white men to teach them the rudiments of ag-
riculture, supply them with farming utensils, and
all other requisites for living comfortably in their
new homes. I then desired him to consult with his
people, and let me know what their views were
upon the subject.
After talking a considerable time with his head
men, he rose to reply, and said, " He was very hap-
py to learn that the President remembered his poor
red children in the Plains, and he was glad to see
me again, and hear from me that their Great Father
was their friend ; that he was also very much grat-
ified to meet his agent who was present, and that
he should remember with much satisfaction the
agreeable interview we had had upon that occa-
sion." After delivering himself of numerous other
non-committal expressions of similar import, he
closed his speech and took his seat without making
the sHghtest allusion to the subject in question.
On reminding him of this omission, and again de-
manding from him a distinct and categorical an-
swer, he, after a brief consultation with his people,
replied that liis talk was made and concluded, and
]ie did not comprehend why it was that I wanted
218 PEAIEIE TEAVELEE.
to open the subject anew. But, as I continued to
press him for an answer, he at length said, " You
come into our country and select a small patch of
ground, around which you run a line, and tell us
the President will make us a present of this to live
upon, when every body knows that the whole of
this entire country, from the Red River to the Col-
orado, is now, and always has been, ours from time
immemorial. I suppose, however, if the President
tells us to confine ourselves to these narrow limits,
we shall be forced to do so, whether we desire it or
not."
He was evidently averse to the proposed change
in then* mode of life, and has been at war ever since
the establishment of the settlement.
The mode of life of the nomadic tribes, owing to
their unsettled and warlike habits, is such as to ren-
der their condition one of constant danger and ap-
prehension. The security of their numerous ani-
mals from the encroachments of their enemies and
habitual liability to attacks compels them to be at
all times upon the alert. Even during profound
peace they guard their herds both night and day,
while scouts are often patrolling upon the surround-
ing heights to give notice of the approach of
strangers, and enable them to secure their animals
and take a defensive attitude.
When one of these people conceives himself in-
jured his thirst for revenge is insatiable. Grave
and dignified in his outward bearing, and priding
WAR EXPEDITIONS. 219
himself uj^on never exhibiting curiosity, joy, or an-
ger, yet when once roused he evinces the implaca-
ble dispositions of his race ; the affront is laid up
and cherished in his breast, and nothing can efface
it from his mind until ample reparation is made.
The insult must be atoned for by presents, or be
washed out with blood.
WAK EXPEDITIONS.
When a chief desires to organize a war-party, he
provides himself with a long pole, attaches a red
flag to the end of it, and trims the top with eagle
feathers. He then mounts his horse in his war-cos-
tume, and rides around through the camp singing
the war-song. Those who are disposed to join the
expedition mount tlieir horses and fall into the pro-
cession; after parading about for a time, aU dis-
mount, and the war-dance is performed. This cer-
emony is continued from day to day until a suffi-
cient number of volunteers are found to accomplish
the objects desired, when they set out for the thea-
tre of their intended exploits.
As they proceed upon their expedition, it some-
times haj)pens that the chief with whom it origi-
nated, and who invariably assumes the command,
becomes discouraged at not finding an opportunity
of displaying his warlike abilities, and abandons the
enterprise ; in which event, if others of the party
desire to proceed farther, they select another lead-
er and push on, and thus so long as any one of the
party holds out.
220 PEAIRIE TKAVELEK.
A war-party is sometimes absent for a great
length of time, and for days, weeks, and months
their friends at home anxiously await their return,
until, suddenly, from afar, the shrill war-cry of an
avant courier is heard proclaiming the approach
of the victorious warriors. The camp is in an in-
stant alive with excitement and commotion. Men,
women, and children swarm out to meet the ad-
vancing party. Their white horses are painted and
decked out in the most fantastic style, and led in
advance of the triumphal procession ; and, as they
pass around through the village, the old women set
up a most unearthly howl of exultation, after which
the scalp-dance is performed with all the pomp and
display their limited resources admit of, the war-
riors having their faces painted black.
When, on the other hand, the expedition termi-
nates disastrously by the loss of some of the party
in battle, the relatives of the deceased cut off their
own hair, and the tails and manes of their horses,
as symbols of mourning, and howl and cry for a
long time.
In 1854 I saw the widow of a former chief of the
Southern Comanches, whose husband had been dead
about three years, yet she continued her mourning
tribute to his memory by crying daily for him and
refusing all offers to marry again.
The prairie warrior is occasionally seen with the
rifle in his hand, but his fivorite arm is the bow,
the use of which is taught him at an early age. By
WAR EXPEDITIONS. 221
constant practice he acquires a skill in archery that
renders him no less formidable in war than success-
ful in the chase. Their bows are usually made of
the tough and elastic wood of the " hois d?are!^''
strengthened and re-enforced with sinews of the
deer wrapped firmly around, and strung with a
cord of the same material. They are from three to
four feet long. The arrows, which are carried in a
quiver upon the back, are about twenty inches
long, of flexible wood, with a triangular iron point
at one end, and at the other two feathers intersect-
ing at right angles.
At short distances (about fifty yards), the bow, in
the hands of the Indian, is effective, and in close
proximity with the buffalo throws the arrow entire-
ly through his huge carcass. In using this Aveapon
the warrior protects himself from the missiles of
his enemy with a shield made of two thicknesses of
undressed buffalo hide filled in with hair.
The Comanches, Sioux, and other prairie tribes
make their attacks upon the open prairies. Trust-
ing to their wonderful skill in equitation and horse-
manship, they ride around their enemies with their
bodies thrown upon the opposite side of the horse,
and discharge their arrows in rapid succession while
at full speed ; they will not, however, often venture
near an enemy who occupies a defensive position.
If, therefore, a small party be in danger of an at-
tack from a large force of Indians, they should seek
the cover of timber or a park of wagons, or, m the
222 PEAIRIE TEAVELEK.
absence of these, rocks or holes in the prairie which
afford good cover.
Attempts to stampede animals are often made
when parties first arrive in camp, and when every-
one's attention is preoccupied in the arrangements
therewith connected. In a country mfested by hos-
tile Indians, the ground in the vicuiity of which it
is proposed to encamp should be cautiously exam-
ined for tracks and other Indian sights by making a
circuit around the locality previous to unharnessing
the animals.
After Indians have succeeded in stampeding a
herd of horses or mules, and desire to drive them
away, they are in the habit of pushing them for-
ward as rapidly as possible for the first few days, m
order to place a wide mterval between themselves
and any party that may be in pursuit.
In running off stolen animals, the Indians are
generally divided into two parties, one for driving
and the other to act as a rear guard. Before they
reach a place where they propose making a halt,
they leave a vidette upon some prominent i)omt to
watch for pursuers and give the main party timely
warning, enabling them to rally their animals and
push forward again.
TRACKING INDIANS.
When an Indian sentinel intends to watch for an
enemy approachmg from the rear, he selects the
highest position available, and places himself near
TKACKING INDIANS. 223
the summit in such an attitude that his entire body
shall be concealed from the observation of any one
in the rear, his head only being exposed above the
top of the eminence. Here he awaits with great
patience so long as he thinks there is any possibili-
ty of danger, and it will be difficult for an enemy to
surprise him or to elude his keen and scrutinizing
vigilance. Meanwhile his horse is secured under
the screen of the hill, all ready when required.
Hence it will be evident that, in following Indian
depredators, the utmost vigilance and caution must
be exercised to conceal from them the movements
of their pursuers. They are the best scouts in the
world, proficient in all the artifices and stratagems
available in border warfare, and when hotly pur-
sued by a superior force, after exhausting all other
means of evasion, they scatter in difi*erent direc-
tions ; and if, in a broken or mountainous country,
they can do no better, abandon their horses and
baggage, and take refuge in the rocks, gorges, or
other hiding-places. This plan has several times
been resorted to by Indians in Texas when sur-
prised, and, notwithstanding their pursuers were
directly upon them, the majority made their escape,
leaving behind all their animals and other property.
For overtaking a marauding party of Indians
who have advanced eio^ht or ten hours before the
pursuing party are in readiness to take the trail, it
is not best to push forward rapidly at first, as this
will weary and break down horses. The Indians
224 PRAIKIE TEAVELER.
must be supposed to have at least fifty or sixty
miles the start ; it will, therefore, be useless to think
of overtaking them without providmg for a long
chase. Scouts should continually be kept out in
front upon the trail to reconnoitre and give precon-
certed signals to the main party when the Lidians
are espied.
Li approaching all eminences or undulations in
the prairies, the commander should be careful not
to allow any considerable number of his men to
pass uj^on the summits until the country around has
been carefully reconnoitred by the scouts, who will
cautiously raise their eyes above the crests of the
most elevated points, making a scrutinizing exami-
nation in all directions ; and, while doing this,
should an Indian be encountered who has been left
behind as a sentinel, he must, if possible, be secured
or shot, to prevent his giving the alarm to his com-
rades. These precautions can not be too rigidly
enforced when the trail becomes " warm ;" and if
there be a moon, it will be better to lie by in the
daytime and follow the trail at night, as the great
object is to come upon the Indians when they are
not anticipating an attack. Such surprises, if dis-
creetly conducted, generally prove successful.
As soon as the Indians are discovered in their
bivouac, the pursuing party should dismount, leave
their horses under charge of a guard in some se-
questered place, and, before advancing to the at-
tack, the men should be instructed in signals for
TKACKING INDIANS. 225
their dijBferent movements, such as all will easily
comprehend and remember. As, for example, a
pull upon the right arm may signify to face to the
right, and a pull upon the left arm to face to the
left ; a pull upon the skirt of the coat, to halt ; a
gentle push on the back, to advance in ordinary
time; a slap on the back, to advance in double
quick time, etc., etc.
These signals, having been previously well under-
stood and practiced, may be given by the command-
er to the man next to him, and from him commimi-
cated in rapid succession throughout the command.
I will suppose the party formed in one rank, with
the commander on the right. He gives the signal,
and the men move off cautiously in the direction
indicated. The importance of not losing sight of
his comrades on his right and left, and of not al-
lowing them to get out of his reach, so as to break
the cham of communication, will be apparent to all,
and great care should be taken that the men do not
mistake their brothers in arms for the enemy. This
may be prevented by having two pass-words^ and
when there be any doubt as to the identity of two
men who meet during the night operations, one of
these words may be repeated by each. Above all,
the men must be fully impressed with the import-
ance of not firing a shot until the order is given by
the commanding officer, and also that a rigorous
personal accountability will be enforced in all cases
of a violation of this rule.
P
226 PEAIEIE TKAVELEK.
If the commander gives the signal for commenc-
ing the attack by firing a pistol or gun, there will
probably be no mistake, miless it happens through
carelessness by the accidental discharge of fire-
arms.
I can conceive of nothing more appalhng, or that
tends more to throw men off their guard and pro-
duce confusion, than a sudden and unexjoected
night-attack. Even the Indians, who pride them-
selves upon their coolness and self-possession, are
far from being exempt from its effects ; and it is
not surprising that men who go to sleep with a
sense of perfect security around them, and are sud-
denly aroused from a sound slumber by the terrific
sounds of an onslaught from an enemy, should lose
their presence of mind.
TELEGRAPHING BY SMOKES.
The transparency of the atmosphere upon the
Plains is such that objects can be seen at great dis-
tances ; a mountain, for example, presents a distinct
and bold outline at fifty or sixty miles, and may oc-
casionally be seen as far as a hundred miles.
The Indians, availing themselves of this fact, have
been in the habit of practicing a system of telegraph-
ing by means of smokes during the day and fires
by night, and, I dare say, there are but few travel-
ers who have crossed the mountains to California
that have not seen these signals made and respond-
ed to from peak to peak in rapid succession.
TELEGEAPHING BY SMOKES. 227
The Indians thus make known to their friends
many items of information highly important to
them. If enemies or strangers make their appear-
ance in the country, the fact is telegraphed at once,
giving them time to secure their animals and to
prejoare for attack, defense, or flight.
War or huntmg parties, after having been absent
a long time from their erratic friends at home, and
not knowing where to find them, make use of the
same preconcerted signals to indicate their presence.
Very dense smokes may be raised by kmdling a
large fire with dry wood, and piling upon it the
green boughs of pine, balsam, or hemlock. This
throws off" a heavy cloud of black smoke which can
be seen very far.
This simple method of telegraphing, so useful to
the savages both in war and in peace, may, in my
judgment, be used to advantage in the movements
of troops co-operating in separate columns in the
Indian country.
I shall not attempt at this time to present a ma-
tured system of signals, but will merely give a few
suggestions tending to illustrate the advantages to
be derived from the use of them.
For example, when two columns are marchmg
through a country at such distances apart that
smokes may be seen from one to the other, their
respective positions may be made known to each
other at any time by two smokes raised simulta-
neously or at certain preconcerted intervals.
228 PEAIEIE TEAVELEE.
Should the commander of one column desire to
communicate with the other, he raises three smokes
simultaneously, which, if seen by the other party,
should be responded to in the same manner. They
would then hold themselves in readiness for any
other communications.
If an enemy is discovered in small numbers, a
smoke raised twice at fifteen minutes' interval would
indicate it ; and if in large force, three times with
the same intervals might be the signal.
Should the commander of one party desire the
other to join him, this might be telegraphed by four
smokes at ten minutes' interval.
Should it become necessary to change the direc-
tion of the line of march, the commander may trans-
mit the order by means of two simultaneous smokes
raised a certain number of times to indicate the
particular direction ; for instance, twice for north,
three times for south, four times for east, and five
times for west ; three smokes raised twice for
northeast, three times for northwest, etc., etc.
By multiplying the combinations of signals a
great variety of messages might be transmitted
in this manner; but, to avoid mistakes, the sig-
nals should be written down and copies furnished
the commander of each separate party, and they
need not necessarily be made known to other
persons.
During the day an intelligent man should be de-
tailed to keep a vigilant look-out in all dii'ections
TELEGRAPHING BY SMOKES. 229
for smokes, and he should be furnished with a
watch, j)encil, and paper, to make a record of the
signals, with their number, and the time of the in-
tervals between them.
230 PRAIKIE TRAVELER.
CHAPTER Vn.
Hunting. — Its Benefits to the Soldier. — ^Buffalo. — Deer. — An-
telope.— Bear. — Big-horn, or Mountain Sheep. — Their
Habits, and Hints upon the best Methods of hunting them.
HUNTING.
I KNOW of no better school of practice for per-
fecting men in target-firing, and the use of fire-
arms generally, than that in which the frontier
hunter receives his education. One of the first and
most important lessons that he is taught impresses
him with the conviction that, unless his gim is in
good order and steadily directed upon the game, he
must go without his supi^er ; and if ambition does
not stimulate his efiforts, his appetite will, and ulti-
mately lead to success and confidence in his own
powers.
The man who is afraid to place the butt of his
piece firmly against his shoulder, or who turns
away his head at the instant of pullmg trigger (as
soldiers often do before they have been drilled at
target -practice), will not be likely to bag much
game or to contribute materially toward the result
of a battle. The successful hunter, as a general
rule, is a good shot, will always charge his gun
properly, and may be relied upon in action. I
would, therefore, when in garrison or at permanent
XEACKB OF GAME QUADIiUPEna REPUESENTED WALKING.
HUNTING. 233
camps, encourage officers and soldiers in field-sports.
If permitted, men very readily cultivate a fondness
for these innocent and healthy exercises, and occu-
py their leisure time in their pursuit ; whereas, if
confined to the narrow limits of a frontier camp or
garrison, having no amusements within their reach,
they are prone to indulge in practices which are
highly detrimental to their physical and moral con-
dition.
By making short excursions about the country
they acquire a knowledge of it, become inured to
fatigue, learn the art of bivouacking, trailing, etc.,
etc., all of which will be found serviceable in bor-
der warfare ; and, even if they should perchance
now and then miss some of the minor routine duties
of the garrison, the benefits they would derive from
hunting would, in my opinion, more than counter-
balance its effects. Under the old regime it was
thought that drills, dress-parades, and guard-mount-
ings comprehended the sum total of the soldier's
education, but the. experience of the last ten years
has taught us that these are only the rudiments,
and that to combat successfully with Indians we
must receive instruction from them, study their
tactics, and, where they suit our purposes, copy
from them.
The union of discipline with the individuality,
self-reliance, and rapidity of locomotion of the sav-
age is what we should aim at. This will be the
tendency of the course indicated, and it is con-
234 PEAIRIE TEAVELEE.
ceived by the writer that an army composed of
well-disciplined hunters will be the most efficient
of all others against the only enemy we have to en-
counter within the hmits of our vast j^ossessions.
I find some pertinent remarks upon this subject
in a very sensible essay by " a late captain of in-
fantry" (U. S.). He says :
" It is conceived that scattered bands of momited
hunters, with the speed of a horse and the watch-
fulness of a wolf or antelope, whose faculties are
sharpened by their necessities ; who, when they get
short of provisions, separate and look for something
to eat, and find it in the water, in the ground, or
on the surface; whose bill of fare ranges from
grass-seed, nuts, roots, grasshoppers, lizards, and
rattlesnakes up to the antelope, deer, elk, bear, and
bufiklo, and who have a continent to roam over,
will be neither surprised, caught, conquered, over-
awed, or reduced to famine by a rumbling, bugle-
blowing, drum-beating town passing through their
country on wheels at the speed of a loaded wagon.
" If the Indians are in the path and do not wish
to be seen, they cross a ridge, and the town moves
on, ignorant whether there are fifty Indians within
a mile or no Indian within fifty miles. If the In-
dians wish to see, they return to the crest of the
ridge, crawl up to the edge, pull up a bunch of
grass by the roots, and look through or under it at
the procession."
Although I would always encourage men in himt-
HUNTING. 235
ing when permanently located, yet, unless they are
good woodsmen, it is not safe to permit them to go
out alone in marching through the Indian country,
as, aside from the danger of encountering Indians,
they would be liable to become bewildered and
perhaps lost, and this might detain the entke party
in searching for them. The better plan upon a
march is for three or four to go out together, ac-
companied by a good woodsman, who will be able
with certainty to lead them back to camp.
The little group could ascertain if Indians are
about, and would be strong enough to act on the
defensive against small parties of them ; and, while
they are amusing themselves, they may perform an
important part as scouts and flankers.
An expedition may have been i:>erfectly organ-
ized, and every thing provided that the wisest fore-
thought could suggest, yet circumstances beyond the
control of the most experienced traveler may some-
times arise to defeat the best concerted plans. It
is not, for example, an impossible contingency that
the traveler may, by unforeseen delays, consume
his provisions, lose them in crossing streams, or
have them stolen by hostile Indians, and be reduced
to the necessity of depending upon game for sub-
sistence. Under these circumstances, a few obser-
vations upon the habits of the different animals that
frequent the Plains and on the best methods of hunt-
ing them may not be altogether devoid of interest
or utility in this connection.
236 PEAIRIE TRAVELER.
THE BUFFALO.
The largest and most useful animal that roams
over the prairies is the buffalo. It provides food,
clothing, and shelter to thousands of natives whose
means of livelihood depend almost exclusively upon
this gigantic monarch of the prairies.
Not many years since they thronged in countless
multitudes over all that vast area lying between
Mexico and the British possessions, but now their
range is confined within very narrow limits, and a
few more years wUl probably witness the extinction
of the species.
The traveler, in passing from Texas or Arkansas
through southern New Mexico to California, does
not, at the present day, encounter the buffalo ; but
upon all the routes north of latitude 36° the animal
is still found between the 99th and 102d meridians
of longitude.
Although generally regarded as migratory in their
habits, yet the buffalo often winter in the snows of
a high northern latitude. Early in the spring of
1858 I found them in the Rocky Mountams, at the
head of the Arkansas and South Platte Rivers, and
there was every indication that this was a perma-
nent abiding-place for them.
There are two methods generally practiced in
hunting the buffalo, viz. : running them on horse-
back, and stalking, or still-hmiting. The first meth-
od requires a sure-footed and tolerably fleet horse
THE BUFFALO. 237
that is not easily frightened. The buffalo cow,
which makes much better beef than the bull, when
pursued by the hunter runs rapidly, and, unless the
horse be fleet, it requires a long and exhausting
chase to overtake her.
When the buffalo are discovered, and the hunter
intends to give chase, he should first dismount, ar-
range his saddle-blanket and saddle, buckle the
girth tight, and make every thing about his horse
furniture snug and secure. He should then put his
arms in good firing order, and, taking the lee side
of the herd, so that they may not get " the vnncV
of him, he should approach in a walk as close as
possible, taking advantage of any cover that may
offer. His horse then, bemg cool and fresh, will
be able to dash into the herd, and probably carry
his rider very near the animal he has selected be-
fore he becomes alarmed.
If the hunter be right-handed, and uses a pistol,
he should approach upon the left side, and when
nearly opposite and close upon the buffalo, deliver
his shot, taking aim a little below the centre of the
body, and about eight inches back of the shoulder.
This will strike the vitals, and generally render
another shot unnecessary.
When a rifle or shot-gun is used the hunter rides
up on the right side, keeping his horse well in hand,
so as to be able to turn off if the beast charges upon
him; this, however, never happens except with a
buffalo that is wounded, when it is advisable to keep
out of his reach.
238 TKAIRIE TEAVELEE.
The buffalo has immense powers of endurance,
and will run for many miles without any apparent
effort or diminution in speed. The first buffalo I
ever saw I followed about ten miles, and when I
left him he seemed to run faster than Avhen the
chase commenced.
As a long buffalo-chase is very severe labor upon
a horse, I would recommend to all travelers, unless
they have a good deal of surplus horse-flesh, never
to expend it in running buffalo.
Still-hunting, which requires no consumption of
horse-flesh, and is equally successful with the other
method, is recommended. In stalkmg on horse-
back, the most broken and hilly localities should be
selected, as these will furnish cover to the hunter,
who passes from the crest of one hill to another,
examining the country carefully in all directions.
When the game is discovered, if it happen to be on
the lee side, the hunter should endeavor, by mak-
ing a wide detour, to get upon the opposite side,
as he will find it impossible to approach within
rifle range with the wind.
When the animal is upon a hill, or in any other
position where he can not be approached without
danger of disturbing him, the hunter should wait
imtil he moves off to more favorable ground, and
this will not generally require much time, as they
wander about a great deal when not grazing; he
then pickets his horse, and approaches cautiously,
seeking to screen himself as much as possible by the
THE BUFFALO. 239
undulations in the surface, or beMncl such other ob-
jects as may present themselves ; but if the surface
should offer no cover, he must crawl upon his hands
and knees when near the game, and in this way he
can generally get within rifle range.
Should there be several animals together, and his
first shot take effect, the hunter can often get sev-
eral other shots before they become frightened. A
Delaware Indian and myself once killed five buffa-
loes out of a small herd before the remainder were
so much disturbed as to move away ; although we
were within the short distance of twenty yards,
yet the reports of our rifles did not frighten them
in the least, and they continued grazing during all
the time we were loading and firing.
The sense of smelling is exceedingly acute with
the buffalo, and they will take the wind from the
hunter at as great a distance as a mile.
When the animal is wounded, and stops, it is
better not to go near him until he Ues down, as he
will often run a great distance if disturbed ; but if
left to himself, will in many cases die in a short
time.
When buffaloes are grazing upon an open flat
prairie where the grass is short, affording no cover,
the Indians stalk them by covering themselves with
a light-colored blanket, and crawling along the
ground on their hands and knees to the leeward of
the herd, and at the same time dragging their guns
or bows and arrows along with them. If proper
240 PKAIRIE TRAVELEK.
caution is used, they are thus enabled to reach the
desired proximity, and may even approach directly
into the midst of the herds without giving alarm.
It very rarely happens that there is any danger
resulting from this method of approach unless the
hunter by a careless shot gives an animal a slight
flesh-wound, which only tends to irritate him. In-
stances have occurred under such circumstances
when the hunter's life has been exposed to immi-
nent jeopardy. I once knew a case of this kind in
which an experienced buifalo-hunter was pursued
by a young bull for several hundred yards, and he
only effected his escape by passing over an elevated
swell in the prairie and hiding in some tall grass
which he was so fortunate as to find at this critical
juncture. The buffalo, on reaching the top of the
eminence, cast a glance around, but, not discovering
his adversary, abandoned the pursuit and walked
away in another direction.
When a man on foot. is pursued by a buffalo, if
he will drop some object, such as his coat, hat, or
other article of dress, this will often divert the an-
imal's attention, and he will stop and vent his rage
upon it, thus giving the hunter time to get out of
danger.
When a herd of buffalo is pursued they run in a
soHd mass, keeping close together, but with the
cows near the front, and on the inside, so that it is
necessary, in order to reach them, to penetrate the
dense phalanx of bulls occupying the outside. This
THE BUFFALO. 241
may be done by riding along with the herd and
gradually inclining toward the centre as openings
present themselves ; this, however, is a feat attend-
ed with some hazard, and should not be attempted
by any one without a well-trained and sure-footed
horse, as, in the event of being unhorsed, the hunter
would inevitably be trampled to pieces under the
feet of the buffalo.
It is dangerous to chase a herd of buffalo when
they raise such a dust as to make it difficult to see
them or to judge accurately of their position.
The hunter should never leave his horse near a
herd of buffalo without tying him, as horses Avill
often start off with the buffalo, and are sometimes
irretrievably lost in this way. One of our officers,
en route to Utah, jumped from his horse, and, leav-
ing him without tying, ran forward to shoot a buf-
falo, when, much to his astonishment, his horse sud-
denly took to his heels, joined the fleeing herd with
saddle, bridle, and other accoutrements, continued
with it far over the prairies out of sight, and has
not, I believe, been heard from since.
The tongues, humj^s, and marrow-bones are re-
garded as the choice parts of the animal. The
tongue is taken out by ripping open the skin be-
tween the prongs of the lower jaw-bone and pull-
ing it out through the orifice. The hump may be
taken off by skinning down on each side of the
shoulders and cutting away the meat, after which
0,
242 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
the hump-ribs can be unjointed where they unite
with the spine. The marrow, when roasted in tlie
bones, is delicious.
THE DEER.
Of all game quadrupeds indigenous to this conti-
nent, the common red deer is probably more wide-
ly dispersed from north to south and from east to
west over our vast possessions than any other.
They are found in all latitudes from Hudson's Bay
to Mexico, and they clamber over the most elevated
peaks of the western sierras with the same ease that
they range the eastern forests or the everglades of
Florida. In summer they crop the grass upon the
summits of the Rocky Mountains, and in winter,
when the snow falls deep, they descend into shel-
tered valleys, where they fall an easy prey to the
Indians.
Besides the common red deer of the Eastern
States, two other varieties are found in the Rocky
Mountains, viz., the "black -tailed deer," which
takes its name from the fact of its having a small
tuft of black hair upon the end of its tail, and the
long-tailed species. The former of these is consid-
erably larger than the eastern deer, and is much
darker, being of a very deep-yellowish iron-gray,
with a yellowish red upon the belly. It frequents
the mountams, and is never seen far away from
them. Its habits are similar to those of the red
deer, and it is hunted in the same way. The only
THE DEER. 243
difference I have been able to discern between the
long-tailed variety and the common deer is in the
length of the tail and body. I have seen this ani-
mal only in the neighborhood of the Rocky Mount-
ains, but it may resort to other localities.
Although the deer are still abundant in many of
our forest districts in the east, and do not appear to
decrease very rapidly, yet there has within a few
years been a very evident diminution in the num-
bers of those frequenting our "Western prairies. In
passmg through Southern Texas in 1846, thousands
of deer were met with daily, and, astonishing as it
may appear, it was no uncommon spectacle to see
from one to two hundred in a single herd; the
prairies seemed literally alive with them; but in
1855 it was seldom that a herd often was seen in
the same localities. It seemed to me that the vast
herds first met with could not have been killed off
by the hunters in that sparsely-populated section,
and I was puzzled to know what had become of
them. It is possible they may have moved off into
Mexico ; they certainly are not in our territory at
the present time.
Sportsmen have never been, and probably never
will be unanimous in their opinions regarding the
best arm for deer-hunting. The relative efficiency
of the rifle and the smooth-bored fowling-piece has
been a fruitful theme for discussion among the re-
spective advocates of each for many years, and some
very cogent arguments have been adduced in sup-
port of both sides of the question.
244 TRAIEIE TRAVELER.
In clrivmg deer with clogs, where the hunter is
stationed upon a " runway," and seldom has an op-
portunity of getting any other than a running shot,
and this oftentimes in dense cover, I should un-
questionably give the preference to a large gauged
Jhot-gun. I should also choose the same descrip-
tion of gun to hunt deer on horseback in thick
cover, where the game is lying down, and generally
springs up suddenly and is out of sight before a
rifle could be brought to bear with much certainty
upon it; but when it comes to still-hunting deer,
there is no comj)arison, in my judgment, between
the relative merits of the two arms.
Any one who has been in the habit of deer-stalk-
ing knows that it is generally difficult to approach
nearer to them than about 100 yards; he also will
be aware of the fact that a smooth-bored gun, even
when charged with Ely's T^-ire buck-shot cartridges,
is a very uncertain weapon at greater distances
than about 60 or VO yards; while, on the other
hand, it will be equally apparent to him that a good
rifle, in the hands of an experienced shot, is per-
fectly reliable at all distances under 150 yards.
That man who can not kill a deer at 100 yards
with a good rifle had better throw it aside, take
the shot-gun, and turn his attention to smaller
game, for he certainly never will become proficient
as a deer-hunter.
One of the most conclusive arguments I know of
upon this subject is found in the fact that all our
THE DEEK. 245
frontier hunters who rely exclusively uj^on their
guns to furnish them subsistence use only the rifle,
and, indeed, I have never known a very expert
deer-stalker that would make use of any other
arm.
The rifles that are manufactured in the Eastern
States are designed for small game or target j^rac-
tice, and are, for the most part, of small calibre, car-
rying from about 80 to 100 round balls to the
pound. AVhile it is admitted that these missiles,
when fired with great accuracy through the vitals
of a deer, will bring him to the ground, yet it is
contended that if they only penetrate the fleshy
parts of the animal, or even 23ass through the en-
trails, they are often insufiicient to stop him ; Avhere-
as, if a deer be wounded with a large ball, he will
bleed much more freely, and will sooner become
exhausted.
I have always been much more successful with a
large-calibred rifle than Avith a small one ; and I am
of the opinion that a gauge admitting about 32
round balls to the pound is the most efiicient, not
only for deer-shooting, but for all the other large-
game quadrupeds found upon our continent.
A hunting rifle should not be shorter in the bar-
rel than 30 inches (I jDrefer 34 inches), as this length
insures a good line of sight, and gives a desirable
balance to the gun when brought to the shoulder.
A shorter barrel may throw the ball with as much
accuracy, but it is more easily thrown out of the
246 PEAIEIE TKAVELEE,
proper line of direction, and does not allow suffi-
cient interval between the front and back sights.
The weight of metal in the barrel is a considera-
tion of importance, but will depend somewhat upon
the physical powers of the individual. A heavy bar-
rel recoils less than a light one, and, consequently,
throws the projectile with more precision; but a
delicate man can not carry a very heavy rifle upon
his shoulder all day without too great a tax uj)on
his powers of endurance. Some of our stout and
hardy frontiermen, like the Swiss mountaineers,
carry a rifle of twenty pounds' weight, but this I
deem unnecessarily large. A rifle w^eighing entire
from 10 J to 12 pounds is, in my judgment, heavy
enough for hunting purposes. It does not recoil
perceptibly when properly charged, and is not cum-
bersome for men of ordinary physique.
A great variety of complicated elevating back-
sights have been brought to the notice of the pub-
lic within the past few years, and some of them re-
ceived with favor among military men. They are
graduated, and designed to be elevated or depress-
ed as the firing distance increases or diminishes.
Theoretically they are correct in principle, and per-
haps, for military arms, they may be found advan-
tageous when the distances can be determined with
accuracy ; but when the enemy is manoeuvring, and
continually occupying difierent positions, the dis-
tances must, for the most part, be estimated. Un-
der such circumstances, it strikes my mind that but
THE DEER. 247
little, if any, practical utility will be attained from
the use of this awkward and cumbersome appendage.
The open back-sight is, in my opinion, the only
one that should ever be used upon a hunting-rifle.
After it is firmly attached to the gun, the point-
blank distance can be ascertained by experiment,
and the sights adjusted to the proper distance. If
the object is at a greater or less distance, the hunt-
er draws a coarser or finer sight, and by practice
he will become enabled to make this estimate with
a good deal of accuracy ; whereas, if he have the
elevating sight upon his rifle, he must stop to reg-
ulate it to the distance the game happens to show
itself before he can fire, and by the time this is
done, unless the game is more accommodating than
I have usually found it, he will be disappointed.
The only objection I have discovered in the use
of the open sight is, that when the sun's rays strike
it at particular angles it produces a glimmering in
the notch, which prevents drawing a fine sight, but
this difficulty is, in a great degree, overcome by a
very ingenious and simjole device, which originated
with one of my Rocky Mountain guides. It con-
sists in having a semi-sjDherical concavity drilled
into the top of the sight, with the circumference
tangent to the outer front and rear edges of it.
The notches are then cut so as to be in a vertical
plane with the axis of the piece when the sight is
fixed in position. This orifice efiectually screens
the notches and prevents any glimmering.
248 PEAIRIE TRAVELER.
The front sights upon the rifles found in the shops
in Northeastern States are generally too short, and
our Western hunters always knock them off and put
on others. This sight should be about an inch
long, and shaped according to the opj)osite dia-
gram. The hunters generally make them of a piece
of silver cut from the edge of a half dollar.
Twenty years' experience in deer-hunting has
taught me several facts relative to the habits of the
animal, which, when well understood, will be found
of much service to the inexperienced hunter, and
greatly contribute to his success. The best target-
shots are not necessarily the most skillful deer-
stalkers. One of the great secrets of this art is in
knowing how to approach the game Avithout giving
alarm, and this can not easily be done imless the
hunter sees it before he is himself discovered.
There are so many objects in the woods resembling
the deer in color that none but a practiced eye can
often detect the difference.
When the deer is reposing he generally turns his
head from the wind, in which position he can see
an enemy approaching from that direction, and his
nose will apprise him of the presence of danger
from the opj)osite side. The best method of hunt-
ing deer, therefore, is across the icmd.
While the deer are feeding, early in the morning
and a short time before dark in the evening are the
best times to stalk them, as they are then busily
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THE DEER. 251
occupied and less on the alert. When a deer is
espied with his head down, cropping the grass, the
hunter advances cautiously, keeping his eyes con-
stantly directed upon him, and screening himself
behind intervening objects, or, in the absence of
other cover, crawls along upon his hands and knees
in the grass, until the deer hears his step and raises
his head, when he must instantly stop and remam
in an attitude fixed and motionless as a statue, for
the animal's vision is his keenest sense. When
alarmed he will detect the slightest movement of a
small object, and, unless the hunter stands or lies
perfectly still, his presence will be detected. If the
hunter does not move, the deer will, after a short
time, recover from his alarm and resume his grazing,
when he may be again approached. The deer al-
ways exhibits his alarm by a sudden jerking of the
tail just before he raises his head.
I once saw a Delaware Indian walk directly up
within rifle range of a deer tliat was feeding upon
the open prairie and shoot him down ; he was, how-
ever, a long time in approaching, and made frequent
halts whenever the animal flirted his tail and raised
his head. Although he often turned toward the
hunter, yet he did not appear to notice him, proba-
bly taking him for a stump or tree.
When the deer are lying doAvn in the smooth
prairie, unless the grass is tall, it is difiicult to get
near them, as they are generally looking around,
and become alarmed at the least noise.
252 PKAIKIE TKAVELEE.
The most auspicious season of the year for still-
hunting deer in a northern latitude is immediately
after the first light falls of snow during the early
part of winter. The game is then "^;^ seaso^i," fat,
well-flavored, and the fawns sufficiently grown to
take care of themselves.
When the ground is covered with a soft carj^et
of three or four inches of snow, the hunter passes
over it without making much noise by the crackling
of twigs or the rustling of leaves under his feet.
Moccasins are preferable for this kind of hunting
to boots or shoes, especially m the cold and dry
weather, for the reason that they are more soft and
yielding, and do not occasion so much noise by
crushing twigs or striking against hard substances,
and are therefore less liable to startle the game.
In starting out at early dawn, after there has been
a light snow during the preceding night, the hunt-
er may be certain, should he encounter a track,
that it is fresh, and that the animal is not very far
distant. He then, in a region where the deer are
not very abundant, takes the trail and follows it ;
but, in doing this, he should not keep his eyes con-
stantly fixed upon the ground, but walk cautiously
along near the track, carefully avoiding stej^ping
upon dry brush, or breaking off overhanging limbs
of trees, and attentively scrutinizing all the ground
in front within rifle range.
Where the deer has been moving directly along,
without stopping to lie down or wandering about
THE DEER. 253
to eat, it will not be necessary to exercise so much
caution, as the animal will probably be found some
distance in advance ; but whenever the track takes
a direction toward a thicket of brush, a morass cov-
ered with tall grass or rushes, or, indeed, toward
any other place affording dense cover, where the
animal might be likely to lie down, the hunter
should at once leave the trail and make a wide de-
tour around upon the lee side of such covert, keep-
ing his eyes intently occupied in scrutinizing every
object within the area. After passing entirely
around the copse in this manner, and arriving at
the point of departure, if he has not crossed the
track on the opposite side, he knows that the deer
is within the circle he has described, and he then
makes sure that his rifle is in good firing order ; and,
carrying it in such a position that it can be brought
to bear upon the object in the shortest possible
time, he begins to contract the circle by gradually
approaching nearer the covert, and keenly search-
ing every place where it is possible for the deer to
make his bed. To insure success in the execution
of this very adroit and strategic approach, it is ab-
solutely necessary that the hunter should move with
a slow and regular gait, but on no account stop, or
make any unusual demonstration, until he discovers
the game and is in readiness to deliver his shot, as,
in the event of his being very near the deer, he will
oftentimes jump up and run at the instant he makes
a halt, whereas if he moves steadily along with a
254 PKAIKIE TEAVELER.
measured step, as if he intended to pass by, they
will generally lie close, and sometimes I have even
seen them lower their heads upon the ground to
hide from the hunter.
The antlers of the bucks, before they shed them,
can often be seen over the tops of the tall grass or
low brush when they are lying down, and the long
erect ears of the does are the first objects that make
their appearance under the same circumstances.
The hunter must be careful not to allow his eyes
to catch those of the deer when he discovers him,
as I am informed by a finished sportsman and an
experienced deer-stalker (although I have never ob-
served the fact myself) that in such event the ani-
mal will instantly jump up and run.
During the '•'- ru7inmg season^'' the bucks follow
on the trail of the does in a fast walk or slow trot,
and, as they are then eagerly occupied in the pur-
suit of their object, they are not easily diverted
from it. The hunter may then fall in behind them
after they pass him, and, following up rapidly, ap-
proach within rifle range without difliculty.
The "running season" in the Northern States
generally commences in October, and lasts about a
month ; but in the Southern States it is about a
month later. During this season the bucks run
themselves down, become poor, their necks swell to
an enormous size, andthe venison is then rank and
unfit for the table.
A woimded deer can be followed without difii-
THE DEER. 255
culty upon the snow ; and if the blood that flows
from tlie wound is of a light red or pink color, it is
a certain indication that the animal has been struck
in the vitals, and will not run far. In the summer
season a wounded deer will generally seek the wa-
ter, and, hiding under the shelving banks of rivers,
or in the grass upon the borders of ponds, sink his
body, only keeping his head exposed ; it then be-
comes necessary to search very closely to discover
his hiding-place.
When a deer has been alarmed by a hunter upon
his track, he often runs a long distance before he
recovers from his fright, and it requires a long and
exhausting chase to come up with him again ; even
then he will be hkely to keep an eye to the rear for
a considerable time, and it will require great cau-
tion to approach within shooting distance. I have
always, under such circumstances, thought it better
to abandon the track and look for another.
When a deer has but one leg broken he makes
good running, and a man on foot will find it very
difficult to overtake him without a dog to bring him
" to bay." I remember one instance where I broke
both fore-legs of a doe just above the knees, yet,
notwithstanding these severe wounds, she ran off
upon the stumps nearly half a mile before I suc-
ceeded in securing her.
Another very successful method of deer-stalking,
which is i^racticed a good deal in the sparsely-
populated districts of Texas and Mexico, where the
256 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
game is abundant, and accustomed to grazing in
the vicinity of cattle and horses, is by making use
of a gentle and tractable horse or mule, and ap-
proaching as near the deer as can conveniently be
done without giving alarm (about 300 yards) ; the
hunter then dismounts, attaches one end of his
wiping-stick, or other small rod, to the bridle-bit
by means of a string; he then takes the opposite
end of the rod in one hand, his rifle in the other,
and, placing himself near the horse's shoulder on
the opposite side from the deer, so as to be screened
from their observation by the horse, he moves off
very slowly in a direction not directly toward the
game, but so as to pass within the desirable rifle
range, and upon the lee side. With the stick he is
enabled to guide his horse, stop him, or turn him
in any direction he may desire. In this manner he
proceeds in a slow walk, carefully covering himself
behind the horse, and gradually bearing toward the
deer.
During the approach the deer will sometimes
take alarm, raise their heads, and cast a startled
and inquiring look at the horse. Should this occur,
the hunter will at once stop and allow his horse to
crop the grass, while he himself lowers his head so
as to be entirely screened from the deer. As soon
as they regain their composure and resume their
grazing, he proceeds again, and will generally be
able to get within short rifle range, when he can
stoop down and fire under his horse's belly or neck.
THE DEER. 257
If, however, the stalking-horse has not been tramed
to this particular method of hunting, or is alarmed
at the report of fire-arms, the hunter should carry
the lariat rope in his hand, and, when he is suffi-
ciently near the deer, drop the guiding-stick, and
allow his horse to pass on, while he remains upon
the ground behind, and places himself in position
to fire at the instant he is uncovered by the horse.
I have often hunted in this way, and with good
success. I observed, however, after a particular
herd had been stalked several times, that they be-
came wary, after which it was necessary to unsad-
dle before commencing the approach.
Another successful, but not very sportsmanlike
method of deer-stalking is resorted to by the un-
scrupulous pot-hunters in Western Texas and Mex-
ico, and which is so entirely different from any
other I have ever heard of that it is worthy of a
notice for its originality. It consists in making use
of a dry and stiff ox-hide, to one end of which a
rope is attached. A yoke of well-trained and gen-
tle oxen are then hitched to the rope, and the hunt-
er drives out into the prairies where the deer re-
sort. When he discovers a herd, and has approach-
ed as near as can be done without disturbing them,
he seats himself upon the hide, and, without speak-
ing or making any other noise, directs the team
with his whip toward the game. During the ap-
proach, he allows his cattle to move slowly, and oc-
casionally to stop and crop the grass. He is well
R
258 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
screened by the oxen and the pran-ie grass, and will
find it a very easy matter to drive within short rifle
range without being discovered. After killing a
deer, he places it upon his drag, and drives on in
search of others.
The Indians are in the habit of using a small in-
strument which imitates the bleat of the young
fawn, with which they lure the doe within range
of their rifles. The young fawn gives out no scent
upon its track until it is sufficiently grown to make
good running, and instinct teaches the mother that
this wise provision of nature to preserve the help-
less little quadruped from the ravages of wolves,
panthers, and other carnivorous beasts, will be de-
feated if she remains with it, as her tracks can not
be concealed. She therefore hides her fawn in the
grass, where it is almost impossible to see it, even
when very near it, goes off* to some neighboring
thicket within call, and makes her bed alone. The
Indian pot-hunter, who is but little scrupulous as
to the means he employs in accomplishing his ends,
sounds the bleat along near the places where he
thinks the game is lying, and the unsuspicious doe,
who imagines that her offspring is in distress, rush-
es with headlong impetuosity toward the sound,
and often goes within a few yards of the hunter to
receive her death-wound.
This is cruel sport, and can only be justified when
meat is scarce, which is very frequently the case in
the Indian's larder.
THE DEER. 259
It does not always comport with a man's feelings
of security, especially if he happens to be a little
nervous, to sound the deer-bleat in a wild region
of country. I once undertook to experiment with
the instrument myself, and made my first essay in
attempting to call u-p an antelope which I discov-
ered in the distance. I succeeded admirably in
luring the wary victim within shooting range, had
raised upon my knees, and was just in the act of
pulling trigger, when a rustling in the grass on my
left drew my attention in that direction, where,
much to my surprise, I beheld a huge panther with-
in about twenty yards, bounding with gigantic
strides directly toward me. I turned my rifle, and
in an instant, much to my relief and gratification,
its contents were lodged in the heart of the beast.
Many men, when they suddenly encounter a
deer, are seized with nervous excitement, called in
sporting parlance the " buck fever^"^ which causes
them to fire at random. Notwithstanding I have
had much experience in hunting, I must confess
that I am never entirely free from some of the
symptoms of this malady when firing at large
game, and I believe that in four out of five cases
where I have missed the game my balls have pass-
ed too high. I have endeavored to obviate this by
sighting my rifle low, and it has been attended with
more successful results. The same remarks apply
to most other men I have met with. They fire too
high when excited.
260 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
THE ANTELOPE.
This animal frequents the most elevated, bleak,
and naked prairies in all latitudes from Mexico to
Oregon, and constitutes an important item of sub-
sistence with many of the Prairie Indians. It is the
most wary, timid, and fleet animal that inhabits the
Plains. It is about the size of a small deer, with a
heavy coating of coarse, wiry hair, and its flesh is
more tender and juicy than that of the deer. It
seldom enters a timbered country, but seems to de-
light in cropping the grass from the elevated swells
of the prairies. When disturbed by the traveler, it
will circle around him with the speed of the wind,
but does not stop until it reaches some prominent
position whence it can survey the country on all
sides, and nothing seems to escape its keen vision.
They will sometimes stand for a long time and look
at a man, provided he does not move or go out of
sight ; but if he goes behind a hill with the inten-
tion of passing around and getting nearer to them,
he Avill never find them again in the same place. I
have often tried the experiment, and invariably
found that, as soon as I went where the antelope
could not see me, he moved off*. Their sense of
hearing, as well as vision, is very acute, which ren-
ders it difficult to stalk them. By taking advan-
tage of the cover afforded in broken ground, the
hunter may, by moving slowly and cautiously over
the crests of the irregularities in the surface, some-
times approach within rifle range.
ii'''fcWi
lilli;
Jl!:!l;,.
II
V[;i|i''
THE BEAK. 2 03
The antelope possesses a greater degree of curi-
osity than any other animal I know of, and will
often approach very near a strange object. The
experienced hunter, taking advantage of this pecul-
iarity, lies down and secretes himself in the grass,
after which he raises his handkerchief, hand, or foot,
so as to attract the attention of the animal, and thus
often succeeds in beguiling him within shooting
distance.
In some valleys near the Rocky Mountains, where
the pasturage is good during the winter season,
they collect in immense herds. The Indians are in
the habit of surrounding them in such localities and
running them with their horses until they tire them
out, when they slay large numbers.
The antelope makes a track much shorter than
the deer, very broad and round at the heel, and
quite sharp at the toe; a little experience renders
it easy to distinguish them.
THE BEAR.
Besides the common black bear of the Eastern
States, several others are found iu the mountains
of California, Oregon, Utah, and New Mexico, viz.,
the grizzly, brown, and cinnamon varieties ; all have
nearly the same habits, and are hunted in the same
manner.
From all I had heard of the grizzly bear, I was
induced to believe him one of the most formidable
and savage animals in the universe, and that the
264 PEAIKIE TKAVELEK.
man who would deliberately encounter and kill one
of these beasts had performed a signal feat of cour-
age which entitled him to a lofty position among
the votaries of Nimrod. So firmly had I become
impressed with this conviction, that I should have
been very reluctant to fire upon one had I met him
when alone and on foot. The grizzly bear is assured-
ly the monarch of the American forests, and, so far
as physical strength is concerned, he is, perhaps,
without a rival in the world ; but, after some expe-
rience in hunting, my opinions regarding his cour-
age and his willingness to attack men have very
materially changed.
In passing over the elevated table-lands lying be-
tween the two forks of the Platte River in 1858, 1
encountered a full-grown female grizzly bear, with
two cubs, very quietly reposing upon the open prai-
rie, several miles distant from any timber. This
being the first opportunity that had ever occurred
to me for an encounter w4th the ursine monster,
and being imbued with the most exalted notions of
the beast's proclivities for offensive warfare, espe-
cially when in the presence of her offspring, it may
very justly be imagined that I was rather more ex-
cited than usual. I, however, determined to make
the assault. I felt the utmost confidence in my
horse, as she was afraid of nothing ; and, after ar-
ranging every thing about my saddle and arms in
good order, I advanced to Avithin about eighty
yards before I was discovered by the bear, when
THE BEAK. 265
she raised upon her haunches and gave me a scru-
tmizing examination. I seized this ojoportune mo-
ment to fire, but missed my aim, and she started oif,
followed by her cubs at their utmost speed. After
reloading my rifle, I pursued, and, on coming again
within range, delivered another shot, which struck
the large bear in the fleshy part of the thigh, where-
upon she set up a most distressing howl and accel-
erated her pace, leaving her cubs behind. After
loading again I gave the spurs to my horse and re-
sumed the chase, soon passing the cubs, who were
making the most plaintive cries of distress. They
were heard by the dam, but she gave no other heed
to them than occasionally to halt for an instant, turn
around, sit up on her posteriors, and give a hasty
look back; but, as soon as she saw me following
her, she invariably turned again and redoubled her
speed. I pursued about four miles and fired four
balls into her before I succeeded in bringing her to
the ground, and from the time I first saw her until
her death-wound, notwithstanding I was often very
close upon her heels, she never came to bay or made
the slightest demonstration of resistance. Her sole
purpose seemed to be to make her escape, leaving
her cubs in the most cowardly manner.
Upon three other different occasions I met the
mountain bears, and once the cinnamon species,
which is called the most formidable of all, and in
none of these instances did they exhibit the slight-
est indication of anger or resistance, but invariably
ran from me.
266 PBAIRIE TBAVELEli.
Such is my experience with this formidable mon-
arch of the mountains. It is possible that if a man
came suddenly upon the beast in a thicket, where it
could have no previous warning, he might be at-
tacked ; but it is my opinion that if the bear gets
the loind or sight of a man at any considerable dis-
tance, it will endeavor to get away as soon as pos-
sible. I am so fully impressed with this idea that I
shall hereafter hunt bear with a feeling of as much
security as I would have in hunting the buffalo.
The grizzly, like the black bear, hybernates in
winter, and makes his appearance in the spring
with his claws grown out long and very soft and
tender ; he is then poor, and unfit for food.
I have heard a very curious fact stated by sev-
eral old mountaineers regarding the mountain bears,
which, of course, I can not vouch for, but it is given
by them with great apparent sincerity and candor.
They assert that no instance has ever been knoAvn
of a female bear having been killed in a state of
pregnancy. This singular fact in the history of the
animal seems most inexplicable to me, unless she
remain concealed in her brumal slumber until after
she has been delivered of her cubs.
I was told by an old Delaware Indian that when
the bear has been traveling against the wind and
wishes to lie down, he always turns in an oj^posite
direction, and goes some distance away from his
first track before making his bed. If an enemy
then comes upon his trail, his keen sense of smell
will apprise him of the danger. The same Indian
THE BEAR. 267
mentioned that when a bear had been pursued and
sought shelter in a cave, he had often endeavored
to eject him with smoke, but that the bear would
advance to the mouth of the cave, where the fire
was burning, and put it out with his j^aws, then
retreat into the cave again. This would indicate
that Bruin is endowed with some glimpses of reason
beyond the ordinary instincts of the brute creation
in general, and, indeed, is capable of discerning the
connection between cause and effect. Notwith-
standing the extraordinary intelligence which this
quadruped exhibits upon some occasions, upon oth-
ers he shows himself to be one of the most stupid
brutes imaginable. For example, when he has
taken possession of a cavern, and the courageous
hunter enters with a torch and rifle, it is said he
will, instead of forcibly ejecting the intruder, raise
himself upon his haunches and cover his eyes with
his paws, so as to exclude the light, apparently
thinking that in this situation he can not be seen.
The hunter can then approach as close as he pleases
and shoot him down.
THE BIG-HORN.
The big-horn or mountain sheep, which has a
body like the deer, with the liead of a sheep, sur-
mounted by an enormous pair of short, heavy horns,
is found throughout the Rocky Mountains, and re-
sorts to the most inaccessible peaks and to the wild-
est and least-frequented glens. It clambers over
almost perpendicular cliffs with the greatest ease
268 PRAIRIE TRAVELER.
and celerity, and skips from rock to rock, cropping
the tender herbage that grows upon them.
It has been supposed by some that this animal
leaps down from crag to crag, lighting upon his
horns, as an evidence of which it has been advanced
that the front part of the horns is often much bat-
tered. This I believe to be erroneous, as it is very
common to see horns that have no bruises upon
them.
The old mountaineers say they have often seen
the bucks engaged in desperate encounters Avitli
their huge horns, which, in striking together, made
loud reports. This will account for the marks
sometimes seen upon them.
The flesh of the big-horn, when fat, is more ten-
der, juicy, and delicious than that of any other an-
imal I know of, but it is a bonne boiiche which will
not grace the tables of our city epicures until a rail-
road to the Rocky Mountains aflbrds the means of
transporting it to a market a thousand miles dis-
tant from its haunts.
In its habits the mountain sheep greatly resem-
bles the chamois of Switzerland, and it is hunted in
the same manner. The hunter traverses the most
inaccessible and broken localities, moving along
with great caution, as the least unusual noise causes
them to flit away like a phantom, and they will be
seen no more. The animal is gregarious, but it is
seldom that more than eight or ten are found in a
flock. "When not grazing they seek the sheltered
sides of the mountains, and repose among the rocks
ITINERARIES.
i^i!l'i''i'''W''^Hi|l'M
LIST OF ITINERARIES:
SHOWING THE DISTANCES BETWEEN CAMPING-PLACES, THE CHAEACTEE OF
THE EOADS, ANI> THE FACILITIES FOE OBTAINING WOOD, WATEK, AND
GKASS ON THE PRINCIPAL E0UTE3 BETWEEN THE MISSISSIPPI BIVEE AND
THE PACIFIC OCEAN.
No. Pago
I. From Fort Smith, Arkansas, to Santa F6 and Albuquerque,
NeiT Mexico. By Captain It. B. Marcy, U. S. A, 271
II. From Fort Leavenworth to Santa Fe, by the way of the upper
ferry of the Kansas Kiver and the Cimarron 2T3
III. Camping-places upon a road discovered and marked out fi'om
Fort Smith, Arkansas, to Dona Ana and El Paso, New Mex-
ico, in 1849. By Captain E. B. Marcy, U. S. A 279
IV. From Leavenworth City to Great Salt Lake City 282
V. From Salt Lake City to Sacramento and Benicia, California. . 289
VI. From Great Salt Lake City to Los Angeles and San Frailo'isco,
California 293
VII. From Fort Bridger to the "City of Rocks." From Captain
Hancock's Journal 295
VIII. From Soda Springs to the City of Eocks, known as Hudspeth's
Cut-off 298
IX. Sublette's Cut-off, from Salt Lake City Eoad, west of South
Pass, to Bear Eiver 293
X. From Lawson's Meadows, on the Humboldt Eiver, to Fort
Eeading, via Eogue Eiver Valley, Fort Lane, Oregon Terri-
tory, Yreka, and Fort Jones 299
XI. From Soda Springs to Fort Wallah Wallah and Oregon City,
Oregon, via Fort Hall 301
XII. Route for pack trains from John Day's Eiver to Oregon City. . 304
XIII. From Indianola and Powder-horn to San Antonio, Texas, . . . 304
XIV, Wagon-road from San Antonio, Texas, to El Paso, N. M., and
Fort Yuma, California '. 305
XV. From Fort Yuma to San Diego, California 308
XVI. From El Paso, New Mexico, to Fort Y^uma, California, via
Santa Cruz 310
XVn. From Westport, Missouri, to the gold diggings at Pike's Peak
and " Cherry Creek," N. T., via the Arkansas Eiver 311
XVIIL From St. Paul's, Min., to Fort Wallah Wallah, Oregon 318
XIX. Lieutenant E. F, Beale's route from Albuquerque to the Colo-
rado Eiver 323
XX. Captain Whipple's route from Albuquerque, New Mexico, to
San Pedro, California 324
272 LIST OF ITINERAEIES.
No. Page
XXI, From Fort Yuma to Benicia, California. From Lieutenant
E. S .Williamson's Report 831
XXII. A new route from Fort Bridger to Camp Floyd, opened by
Captain J. H. Simpson, U. IS. A., in 1S5S 333
XXIII. From Fort Thorne, New Mexico, to Fort Yuma, California. . 334
XXIV. Lieutenant Bryan's Route from the Laramie Crossing of the
South riatte to Fort Bridger, via Bridger' s Pass 336
XXV. Wagon - route from Denver City, at the Mouth of Cherry
Creek, to Fort Bridger, Utah 339
XXVI. From Nebraska City, on the Missouri, to Fort Kearney .... 342
XXVII. From Camp Floyd, Utah, to Fort Union, New Mexico. By
Colonel W.W. Loring, U. S. A • 343
XXVni. Wagon-route from Guaymas, Sonora, Mexico, to Tubac, Ari-
zona. From Captain Stone's Journal 349
XXIX. Eoad from City of Rocks to Honey Lake Valley. Extracts
from F. W. Lander's Report. 350
XXX. Itinerary of F. W. Lander's Road from East Crossing of
Sweet-water, on Salt Lake Road, to City of Rocks 352
XXXI. Field-notes of the Location of the Fort Ridgely and South
Pass Wagon-road, from the Missouri River to Fort Ridge-
ley ; Samuel A. Medary, Engineer 357
XXXII. Road from Camp Floyd, Utah, to Los Angeles, California.
From Major F. J. Porter's Itinerary 362
XXXIII. Itinerary of the more southern Wagon-route of Captain J.
H. Simpson, Topographical Engineers, U. S. A., from Camp
Floyd, U. T., to Genoa, in Carson Valley, through the
Great Salt Lake Basin, explored by him in 1S50, under in-
structions from Gen. A. S. Johnston, commanding the De-
partment of Utah 368
XXXIV. Itinerary of the more northern Wagon-route of Captain J.
H. Simpson, from Camp Floyd to junction with the more
southern route to Genoa, in Carson Valley, Utah Territo-
ry. This is the present California Mail and Pony Exjiress
Route 372
FORT SMITH TO ALBUQUEEQUE. 273
I. — Fi'om Fort Smithy Ar7ca7isaSy to Santa Fe and
Albuquerque^ New 3Iexico. By Captain R. B.
Maecy, U. S. a.
Miles.
Fort Smith to
15. Strickland's Farm. — The road crosses the Poteau River
at Fort Smith, where there is a feny ; it then follows
the Poteau bottom for ten miles. This part of the road
is very muddy after heavy rains. At 14 miles it passes
the Choctaw Agency, where there are several stores.
There is the greatest abundance of wood, water, and
grass at all camps for the first 200 miles. Where any
of these are wanting it will be specially mentioned.
The road passes through the Choctaw settlements for
about 150 miles, and com and supplies can be purchased
from these Indians at reasonable rates.
11. Camp Creek. — Road crosses a prairie of three miles in
length, then enters a heavy forest. The camp is on a
small branch, with grass plenty in a small prairie about
400 yards to the left of the road.
12. Coon Creek. — Road passes through the timber, and is
muddy in a rainy season.
12. Sans Bois Creek. — Prairie near ; some Choctaw houses
at the crossing.
14. Bend of Sans Bois Creek. — Indian farm.
15. South Fork of Canadian, or ' ' Gain's Creek." — Road trav-
erses a very rough and hilly region. There is a ford
and a ferry upon the creek. Indian farm on the west
bank.
12. First ford of Coal Creek. — Road crosses over a rolling
prairie, and at four miles the Fort Washita road turns
to the left.
Second ford of Coal Creek. — Indian farm.
4. Little Cedar Mountain. — Very rough, mountainous road.
6. Stony Point. — Very rough, mountainous road.
5. Shawnee Village. — Several Indian houses.
14. Shawnee Town. — Road passes several small prairies. In-
dian settlement ; store on opposite bank of Canadian
River, near the camp.
21. Delaware Mountain. — Road passes over a very beautiful
country, with small streams of good water frequent, and
good camps. It crosses small prairies and groves of
timber.
274 FOET SMITH TO ALBUQUEKQtJE.
Miles.
5. Boggy River. — ^Road passes a country similar to that men-
tioned above.
3. Clear Creek. — Road turns to the right near a prominent
round mound. Beautiful country, diversified with
prairies and timbered lands.
7. Branch of Topofki Creek. — Beautiful country and fine
roads.
9i. Cane Creek. — Excellent camp.
5. Small Branch. — Road passes about two miles from the
old "Camp Arbuckle," built by Captain ' Marcy in
1853, since occupied by Black Beaver and several Del-
aware families.
m. Mustang Creek. — Road runs on the dividing ridge be-
tween the waters of the Washita and Canadian, on a
high prairie.
17^. Choteau's Creek. — Road passes on the high prairie oppo-
site Choteau's old trading-house, and leaves the outer
limits of the Indian settlements. Excellent road, and
good camps at short distances,
llf. Choteau's Creek.— Road runs up the creek; is smooth
and good.
12i. Head of Choteau's Creek.— Road runs up the creek, and
is good.
17i. Branch of Washita River. — Road runs over an elevated
prairie country, and passes a small branch at six miles
from last camp.
5f. Branch of " Spring Creek." — Good camp.
16. Head of " Spring Creek." — Road traverses a high prairie
country, is smooth and firm.
13. Red Mounds.— Road runs over a high rolling prairie
country, and is excellent.
5. Branch of Washita River.— Good road.
15J. Branch of Canadian.— Road continues on the ridge di-
viding the Washita and Canadian rivers; is smooth
and firm.
171^. Branch of Washita River.— Road continues on the "di-
vide."
18. Branch of Canadian. — Road continues on the divide
from one to four miles from the Canadian.
19. On Canadian River. — Good road.
16. Little Washita River.— Good road; timber becoming
scarce,
13. Branch of Canadian.— Good road.
FORT SMITH TO ALBUQUERQUE. 275
Miles.
17i. Antelope Buttes. — Koad runs along the Canadian bottom,
and in places is sandy.
14. Eush Lake.— Small pond on the prairie. No wood witli-
in half a mile ; some buffalo chips ; poor water.
16. Branch of Washita River. — Good road on the divide.
lOi. Dry Kiver. — Road descends a very long hill, and crosses
the dry river near the Canadian. Water can be found
by digging about a foot in the sand of the creek. Good
grass on the west bank.
17. Branch of Canadian. — Road winds up a very long and
abrupt hill, but is smooth and firm.
22^. Timbered Creek. — Road passes over a very elevated prai-
rie countiy, and descends by a long hill into the beau-
tiful valley of Timbered Creek.
Hi. Spring Branch. — Good camp.
14. Spring Branch. — Good camp.
17|. Branch of Canadian. — Road passes a small branch 3^
miles from the last camp.
181 . Branch of Canadian.— Road passes a small branch of the
Canadian at 8 miles from the last camp.
I7i. Spring Branch. — Good road.
9i. Branch of Canadian. — Good road and camp.
181^. Branch of the Canadian. — Good road and camp.
lOi. Pools of Water. — Good camp.
10. Large Pond. — Good camp.
25. Pools of Water. — No wood ; water brackish. The road
passes over a very elevated and dry country, without
wood or water.
182^. Head of Branch. — At 13^ miles the road crosses a branch
of the Canadian.
19|. Laguna Colorado. — Road here falls into an old Mexican
cart-road. Good springs on the left up the creek, with
wood and grass abundant.
7. Pools of Water. — Road runs through cedars.
lOf. Pajarito Creek. — Grass begins to be rather short in places,
but is abundant on the creek.
131-. Gallenas Creek. — Good camp.
15. 2d Gallenas Creek. — Good road.
16i. Pecos River at Anton Chico. — This is the first settlement
after leaving Camp Arbuckle. Corn and vegetables
can be purchased here. Grass is generally short
here.
15. Pecos River opposite Questa. — Road runs through the
276 FORT LEAVEif WORTH TO SANTA FE.
Miles.
cedar, and is firm and good. Camp is in sight of the
town of Questa, upon a very elevated bluft".
21f. Laguna Colorado. — Road passes through a wooded coun-
try for a portion of the distance, but leaves it before
reaching camp, where there is no wood, but water gen-
erally sufficient for trains. In very dry seasons it has
been knoAvn to fail. The road forks here, the right
leading to Santa Fe via Galistio (45 1^ miles), and the
left to Albuquerque.
221^. San Antonio. — Good road.
18|. Albuquerque. — Good road.
Total distance from Fort Smith to Albuquerque, 814i miles.
Total distance from Fort Smith to Santa Fe, 819 miles.
II. — From Fort Leavenworth to /Santa Fe, hy the
loay of the tqyper ferry of the Kansas Biver a7id
the Cimarron.
[In this table the distances, taken by an odometer, are given in miles and
luindredths of a mile. The measured distances between the crossing of
the Arkansas and Santa Fe are from Major Kendrick's published table.
Wood, water, and grass are found at all points where the absence of them
is not stated.]
Milea.
From Fort Leavenworth to
2.88. Salt Creek.
9.59. Stranger's Creek.
13.54. "
9.60. Grasshopper Creek.
6.50. "
2.86. "
2.60. "
4.54. Soldier's Creek.
2.45. Upper Ferry, Kansas River.
7.41. Pottawatomie Settlement.
5.75. Pottawatomie Creek.
3.89. White Wakarussi Creek.
7.78. " "
6.27. " "
0.73. Road from Independence. — "No place to encamp.
5.72. White Wakarussi Creek.
FOET LEAVENWORTH TO SANTA FE. 277
Mile?.
2.51. White Wakarussi Creek.
2.82. 142-mile Creek.
7.80. Bluff Creek.
5.77. Eock Creek.
5.08. Big John Spring.
2.29. Council Grove.
7.97. Elm Creek. — Water generallj.
8.06. Diamond Spring.
1.42. Diamond Creek.
15.46. Lost Spring. — No wood.
9.25. Mud Creek. — Water uncertain; no wood.
7.76. Cottonwood Creek.
6.16. Water Holes. — Water generally ; no wood.
12.44. Big Turkey Creek. — No water.
7.83. Little Turkey Creek. — Water uncertain; no wood.
18.19. Little Arkansas River.
10.60. Owl Creek. — Water generally in holes above and be-
low crossing.
6.39. Little Cow Creek. — Water only occasionally.
2.93. Big Cow Creek. — Water holes, 10 miles (estimated).
Water uncertain ; no wood.
18.24. Bend of the Arkansas.
^6.66. Walnut Creek.
16.35. Pawnee Rock. — Teams sometimes camp near here, and
drive stock to the Arkansas to water. No wood.
5.28. Ash Creek. — Water above and below crossing, uncer-
tain.
6.65. Pawnee Fork. — Best grass some distance above cross-
ing.
From Pawnee Fork to the lower crossing of the Ar-
kansas, a distance of 98^ miles, convenient camping-
places can be found along the Arkansas ; the most
prominent localities are therefore only mentioned.
A supply of fuel should be laid in at Pawnee Fork to
last till you pass Fort Mann, though it may be ob-
tained, but inconveniently, from the opposite side of
the Arkansas. Dry Route branches off at 3^^ miles
(estimated). This route joins the main one again 10
miles this side of Fort Mann. It is said to be a good
one, but deficient in water and without wood.
11.43. Coon Creek.
46.58. Jackson's Island.
5.01. Dry Route comes in.
278 FOET LEAVENWORTH TO SANTA FE.
MUea,
10.05. Fort Mann.
25.34:. Lower Crossing of the Arkansas. — The Bent's Fort
Route branches off at this point. For the distances
upon this route, see next table. A supply of wood
should be got from this vicinity to last till you reach
Cedar Creek.
15.08. Water-hole. — Water uncertain ; no wood.
30.02. Two Water-holes. — Water uncertain ; no wood.
14.14. Lower Cimarron Springs. — No wood.
20.00. Pools of Water. — Water uncertain ; no wood.'
19.02. Middle Springs of the Cimarron. — No wood.
12.93. Little Crossing of the Cimarron. — No wood.
14.10. Upper Cimarron Springs. — No wood. Pools of water,
7 miles (estimated). No wood.
19.05. Cold Spring. — A tree here and there in the vicinity.
Pools of water, 1 1 miles (estimated). Water uncer-
tain ; no wood.
16.13. Cedar Creek.— M'Nees' Creek, 10 miles (estimated).
Water indifferent and uncertain ; scant pasture ; no
wood. Arroyo del la Sena, 2^ miles (estimated).
No water.
21.99. Cottonwood Creek. — No water. Arroyo del Burro, 5
miles (estimated).
15.17. Rabbit-ear Creek. — 10 miles (estimated), springs.
Round Mound, 8 miles (estimated). No water ; no
wood; no camping-place. Rock Creek, 10 miles
(estimated). Grazing scant ; no wood.
26.40. Whetstone Creek. — Spring; no wood. Arroyo Don
Carlos, 10^ miles (estimated). Water, etc., to the
left of the road.
14.13. Point of Rocks. — Water and grass np the canon, just
after crossing the point ; scattering shrub cedars on
the neighboring heights.
16.02. Sandy Arroyo. — Water uncertain ; no wood. Crossing
of Canadian River, 4f miles (estimated). Grazing
above the crossing ; willows.
10.05. Rio Ocate. — Wood ^ of a mile to right of road; grass
in the cafion. Pond of water, 13^ miles (estimated).
No wood.
19.65. Wagon Mound. — Santa Clara Springs. Wood brought
from the Rio Ocate. Rio del Perro (Rock Creek),
17^ miles (estimated).
21.62. Canon del Lobe. — Rio Moro, 3^ miles (estimated).
¥OET SINHTII TO DONA ANA AND EL PASO.
279
^^^'' Kio Sapillo, 1 mile (estimated). The Bent's Fort
Route comes in here.
18.00. LasVegas.— Forage purchasable.
13 05. Tacolote.— Forage purchasable. Ojo Vernal, 5 miles
(estimated). No grass to speak of.
U 00 San Miguel.— Forage purchasable ; no grass.
2l'81 Ruins of Pecos.— Grazing very scant. Cottonwood
Creek, 4^ miles (estimated). Water uncertam ; no
grass.
13.41. Stone Corral.— No grass.
10.80. SantaFe.— Forage purchasable; no grazmg.
jn. — Camping-places iqjon a road discovered and
marked out from Fort Smith, Arkansas, to Dona
Ana and El Paso, New Mexico, in 1849. by
Captain K. B. Marcy, U. S. A.
Miles.
Fort Smith to ^, -, /• -n ..
C5. South Fork of the Canadian—The road from Fort
Smith to the South Fork of the Canadian follows the
same track as the road to Albuquerque and Santa
Fe, and by reference to the tables of distances for that
road the intermediate camps will be found.
15 Prior's Store.— Grass, wood, and water near.
\n Little Boggy.— Good camp. Wherever there are not
the requisites of wood, water, and grass for encamp-
ing, it will be specially noted ; when they are not
mentioned they will always be found.
13. Little Boggy.— Good camp.
15K Boggy Depot.— Store and blacksmith s shop. ^
124. Blue River.— The road passes over a fiat section, which
is muddy after rains. .
8^ Fort Washita.— Good camp half a mile before reaching
the fort. The road forks at the Indian village on the
Boggv, the left being the most direct. There are set-
tlers along the road, who will give all necessary in-
formation to strangers. Corn plenty.
22. Preston Texas, on Red River.— The road from Fort
280 FORT SMITH TO DONA ANA AND EL PASO.
Miles.
"VVasliita runs through the Indian settlements, passin-
many places where good camps may be found, and
crosses the Eed River at Preston. There is a ferry
here ; also stores and a blacksmith's shop.
20. M'Carty's. — Road runs through a hea\7-timbered coun-
tiy, crossing several streams where there are good
camps.
14-|. Elm Fork of the Trinity, at Gainesville. — Road passes
over a section diversified by prairies and groves of
timber.
12. Elm Fork of Trinity. — Good camp.
1 1. Elm Fork of Trinity. — Excellent camps. Road passes
over a beautiful country rapidly settling up with farm-
ers, who cultivate and sell grain at low rates.
9. Turkey Creek. — Tributary of Red River. Road emerges
from the upper "Cross Timbers" two miles from
camp.
26f. Buffalo Springs. — Springs of good water, but of limited
amount, in a ravine.
12. On a Ravine. — Pools of good water and a small running
stream, not reliable.
13\. On a Ravine. — Pools of water.
17i. On a Ravine. — Pools of water.
17i. Running branch of Cottonwood Spring. — Branch about
two feet wide, good water ; wood about half a mile
distant.
14. Fort Belknap. — Good road through post-oak timber.
County seat and town at Fort Belknap. Good camp
on the west side of the Brazos, which is always ford-
able except in very high water.
14. Small Branch. — ^Water in holes.
18. Water-holes. — Pools of water. Road passes over prai-
rie and timbered lands, is very smooth and level.
7i. Stem's Farm, on Clear Fork of the Brazos River. —
Good road ; excellent camp, with abundance of wood,
water, and grass. Indian reservation here.
13. Elm Creek, or Qua-qua-ho-no.— Good road over rolling
prairie and mesquite lands.
17. Ravine. — Pools of standing water. Good road.
18. Ravine. — Pools of standing water. Good road.
27. Small Creek.— Tributary of the Brazos. Good road.
6. Pools of Water. — Good camp.
8^. Small Branch.— Good water.
FOKT SMITH TO DONA ANA AND EL PASO. 281
Miles.
20 2-. Tributary of the Colorado. — Brackish water.
3j. Rio Colorado. — Brackish water. Road very excellent.
12^. Spring on the Road. — Good water.
22^^. Big spring to the left of the road, affording a great
amount of water, which runs off in a small stream.
23. Laguna Colorado. — Water somewhat sulphurous; fuel
mesquite roots ; grass abundant.
35. Mustang Pond. — This pond is north of the road about
two miles, and was found in 1849, but emigrants and
others have not been able to find it since. For this
reason I would advise travelers to fill then- water-kegs
at the Laguna Colorado, as in a very dry season
they might not be able to get any water until they
reach the Sand Hills. The road is excellent over the
"Llano Estacado," or Staked Plain.
Si^. Sand Hills. — Water in holes. The water is good here,
and can always be relied on as permanent. The road
through the Sand Hills is very heavy, and I would
advise travelers with loaded wagons to make half
loads.
31^. Laguna near the Pecos River. — Road passes through
the hills, and descends the high prairie to the valley
of the Pecos. Laguna on the left.
15^. Crossing of Pecos. — Water deep and not fordable ; river
42 yards wide. A road leads up the eastern bank of
the Pecos to a ford with rock bottom. Good camps
can be had at almost any point on the Pecos. The
water is brackish, but can be used without harm.
51 K Pecos River. — Point of the river where the road turns
off toward Delaware Creek.
9^. Delaware Creek. — Good road after leaving the Pecos
River. The road on the Pecos is good in the bottom
in very dry weather, but after heavy rains it is sub-
merged and very muddy. Travelers should then turn
off to the bluffs. The water in Delaware Creek is
brackish,
llj. Ojo de San Martin.— Pine spring of fresh water, also
mineral spring. Good road up Delaware Creek.
J 5^. Independence Spring.— Large spring of excellent water.
Look out for Indians.
^1^- C)jo del Camins.— Good spring in the pine timber at the
base of the mountain.
4L Peak of the Guadalupe. — Spring at the foot of the
282 LEAVENWORTH TO SALT LAKE CITY.
Miles.
mountain. Eoad descends the mountain, and is very-
steep.
23^. Ojo del Cuerbo. — Road descends through a very rough
and sinuous ravine, and crosses a long prairie to camp
at a pond of standing water. No wood.
2G. Cornudas (Wells). — Well in the rocks; plenty of water
for small parties. Road good.
8|. Sien-a del Alamo. — Road good ; water limited in quan-
tity. There is a small spring upon the side of the
mountain. No wood except a few mesquite roots.
22^. Waco Tanks. — Good water in a large reservoir in the
rocks. The road here branches, the left leading to
El Paso and the right to Dona Ana.
28. El Paso, on the Rio del Norte. — Road good, with some
sand ; no water upon it.
The distance from the "Waco Tanks" to Dona Aiia is
63 miles, but 40 miles of the road is over heavy sand,
and no water until reaching the mountain, 25 miles
from Dona Ana. I would recommend travelers to
take the El Paso road in preference.
Total distance from Eort Smith to El Paso, 860 miles.
^\oU,W^K
IV. — From Leavenworth City to Great Salt Lake
City.
Miles.
Leavenworth City to
3. Salt Creek. — Good camp ; wood, water, and grass.
12. Cold Spring. — To the right of the road, in a deep ravine,
plenty of wood, water, and grass.
12. Small Branch. — To the north of the road, in an arroya,
good wood, water, and grass. Here enters the road
from Atcheson, 6 miles distant.
16|. Grasshopper Creek. — Good wood, water, and grass.
Q\. Walnut Creek. — Road passes a town called Whitehead, 4
miles from last camp. Water in pools, but f of a mile
below is a fine spring; plenty of wood, water, and
grass.
1 7. Grasshopper Creek. — Good camp, \vith wood, water, and
grass.
LEAVENWORTH TO SALT LAKE CITY. 283
Miles.
12^. Big Nemehaw, two miles above Richland. — Good wood,
water, and grass near the creek.
11. Water-holes. — On the ridge, at the head of a ravine, are
wood, water, and grass, but in a dry time there would
be but little water.
lOf. Vermilion Creek. — Water in the creek not good, but
there is a good well of cold water near the road. Wood
and grass good.
2H. Big Blue River. — Upper crossing, good ford; plenty of
wood, water, and grass. Fine clear stream, 60 yards
wide.
17^. Branch of the Big Blue. — Camp half a mile north of the
road ; good wood, water, and grass.
15. Turkey, or Rock Creek. — Good spring 400 yards to the
north of the road. Store at the crossing. Good wood,
water, and grass.
19. Big Sandy. — Wood, water, and grass good.
11). Little Blue River. — Road runs across the hills without
water until reaching camp. Good wood, water, and grass.
182. Little Blue River. — Camp is at the point where the road
turns off from the creek. Good camps may be found
any where on the Little Blue, with excellent wood, wa-
ter, and grass. Fine running stream.
15. Little Blue River. — Road strikes the creek again, and
keeps it to the camp. Good wood, water, and grass.
19. Elm Creek. — Road leaves the Little Blue, and runs along
a divide to the head of Elm Creek, where we found wa-
ter in holes, with some few trees ; grass good.
20. Platte River. — Road crosses one small branch, where
there is water except in a dry season. Good camp on
the Platte, with wood, water, and grass.
15. Fort Kearney. — Good camp about two miles from the
fort, upon the Platte, either above or below; grass,
wood, and water abundant.
17. Platte River. — Road runs along the river, where there is
plenty of grass, and occasionally a few cottonwood-trees.
Here the buffalo generally begin to be seen, and the
traveler can always get a plenty of buffalo-chips along
in this section.
16|. On Plum Creek. — Road runs along the Platte to Plum
Creek, where there is a little wood, with good grass
and water. Mail station at the crossing of Plum
Creek .
284 LEAVENWOETH TO SALT LAKE CITY.
Miles.
22^-. On Platte River. — Eoad runs along the Platte bottom
after crossing Plum Creek, and is good except in wet
weather. The road occasionally comes near the Platte,
and, although the timber becomes thin, yet places are
found where fuel can be obtained. Grass is plenty at
all points.
23. On Platte River. — ^Road continues along the river valley
over a flat country where the water stands in ponds,
and is boggy in wet weather. Camps occasionally on
the river, but little fuel. Grass and water good.
14. On Platte River. — Road continues along the valley, with
the same character as before, but more timber. Camp
opposite Brady's Island. Plenty of wood, water, and
grass.
17i. Slough. — On the Prairie. Road runs from one to three
miles from the river. No wood all day; plenty of
grass, and buftalo-chips for cooking.
] 5^. Platte River. — Road crosses O'Fallon's Bluffs, where there
is a good camping-place on the right of the road. Plen-
ty of wood, water, and grass on a small stream, which
is part of the Platte. Mail station here.
1G|, South Platte River. — Road runs along the Platte, with
no timber. Good grass and water at any point, with
buffiilo-chips for fuel.
17. South Platte River. — No timber all day. Good water
and grass at all points, with buffalo-chips.
8. South Platte Crossing. — No wood all day. Good water
and grass, with buffalo-chips. The river is about GOO
yards wide, rapid, with quicksand bottom, but can be
forded when not above a medium stage. It is best to
send a footman ahead to ascertain the depth of water
before crossing the wagons and animals.
19. Ash Hollow, at North Platte River. — Road leaves the
South Fork of the Platte, and strikes over the high
prairie for 16 miles, when it descends the high bluffs
bordering the valley of the North Platte, and enters Ash
Hollow, where there is a plenty of wood and a small
spring of water. Half a mile beyond this the road
reaches the river. Mail station and a small groceiy
here.
102. North Platte. — Very sandy road; no wood; grass and
water plenty at all points ; buffalo-chips sufficient for
cooking.
LEAVENWOETH TO SALT LAKE CITY.
285
Miles.
17. North Platte.— Road sandy in places ; no wood ; good
grass and water ; som6 buffalo-chips.
IGk. North Platte,— Road good; no wood; good grass and
water ; cattle-chips in places.
18f. North Platte.— No wood. Camp opposite ''Chimney
Rock," which is a very peculiar formation on the south
of the road, and resembles a chimney. Grass good.
Road muddy after rains.
m.
16.
CIILMNEY EOCK.
North Platte.— No wood ; grass and water good.
"Horse Creek," branch of the North Platte.— In seven
miles the road passes through Scott's Bluffs, where there
IS generally water in the first ravine about 200 yards
below the road. The road then descends the mountain,
at the foot of which is the Platte and a mail station.
A little wood can be obtained at Scott's Bluffs ; there
IS none on Horse Creek
286 LEAVENWOETH TO SALT LAKE CITY.
Miles.
14^. North Platte. — Eoad follows the river bottom all day.
Wood, water, and grass on the river.
12. Fort Laramie. — Road rough and rocky in places. There
are wood and water plenty, and before many trains have
passed the grass is good above the fort. Mail station
and post-office here, with a sutler's store well stocked
with such articles as the traveler wants.
10. North Platte. — Road good, but hilly in places. Camp is
in the river bottom, with plenty of wood, water, and
grass. Hot spring two miles above here.
14. Bitter Creek. — There are two roads, both of which lead
to Salt Lake. The upper or south road is best in the
spring or in wet weather. I traveled the lower road.
Wood, water, and grass are good.
17|. Horse-shoe Creek. — Fine camp, with excellent wood, wa-
ter, and grass. The road here forks, one passing to th^
left over the hills, and the other running nearer the
Platte.
2O2-. North Platte River. — Good road along near the river.
Good wood, water, and grass. Road crosses the river
at 12^- miles.
20i. North Platte River. — Road crosses the river again, and
the camp is two miles above the mouth of La Prell
Creek. Good wood, water, and grass.
19. North Platte River. — Road runs along the river, and is
smooth and good. The camp is two miles above the
crossing of Deer Creek, where there is a blacksmith's
shop and store. Good grass, wood, and water.
16. North Platte River. — Good road, with wood, water, and
grass at camp.
13. North Platte River. — Good road passing the bridge, where
there is a blacksmith's shop and store, also a militar}^
station and a mail station. At two miles from camp
the road crosses the river on a good ford with rocky bot-
tom. The wood, water, and grass are abundant.
23. Red Buttes, on the North Platte. — Road is very hilly, and
in some places sandy ; passes Willow Spring, where
there is grass and a little wood. Good wood, water,
and grass at camp. Mail station here.
11. Sweet Water Creek. — Road leaves the river at the Red
Buttes, and strikes over the high rolling prairie. Good
grass and water, but little wood at camp.
15. On Sweet Water Creek. — Road passes a blacksmith's shop
LEAVENWOKTII TO SALT LAKE CITY.
287
Miles.
and store at the bridge six miles from camp, and at 2i
miles from the camp it passes the " Devil's Gate" and
a mail station. The Sweet Water here runs between
two perpendicular cliifs, presenting a most singular and
striking appearance. Take wood at the Gate for camp.
Good grass and water at all places on Sweet Water
Creek.
THE DEVIL'S GATE.
20. Sweet Water Creek. — Eoad muddy after rains, and some
bad ravines to cross. Wood, water, and grass of the
best quality at camp.
12. Sweet Water Creek. — Road runs along the valley of tho
Sweet Water, where there is plenty of wood and grass
in places, but little wood at the camp noted.
8. On Sweet Water. — Eoad good ; no wood ; grass abund-
ant.
288 LEAYENWOKiri TO SALT LAKE CITY.
Miles.
20. On Sweet Water. — Road good; no wood.
17. Strawberry Creek. — Little wood ; grass and water abund-
ant. Road leaves " Sweet Water," and ascends a very-
long bill which is very rocky.
20^. South Pass. — Road crosses the dividing ridge, and strikes
the Pacific Spring, where there is excellent water and
good grass if many cattle have not passed, in which
event the traveler had better continue on down the
creek which issues from the spring. Sage for fuel ; no
wood,
15f . Dry Sandy Creek. — Grass scarce ; no wood ; some sage
and greasewood; water bi'ackish, but drinkable; road
good. Here the traveler should send ahead and have
the best spots of grass found, as it is very scarce through-
out this section. Sublette's Cut-ofi" turns off here for
Soda Springs and Fort Hall. Take the left for Fort
Bridger and Salt Lake City.
15. Little Sandy Creek. — Grass in spots along the creek bot-
tom, and some fuel.
18. Big Sandy Creek. — Grass in detached spots on the creek,
and little fuel.
21^. Green River, Upper Ford. — Grass and fuel on the river.
7. Green River, at the Lower Ford. — Good grass and fuel
below the ford. Ferry in time of high Avater. Mail
station and grocery.
16. Black's Fork. — Good grass and fuel.
7. Ham's Fork. — United States bridge, no toll. Good gi-ass
and fuel.
12. Black's Fork. — Road forks at the crossing of Black's
Fork, both roads leading to Fort Bridger. This itin-
erary is upon the left-hand road, which crosses Black's
Fork two miles from Ham's Fork.
13. Smith's Fork.— Good camps along Black's Fork at any
place, but the road leaves the stream for several miles.
Wood, water, and grass at the confluence of Black's and
Smith's Forks.
18i. Fort Bridger. — Good camps above and below the fort.
Military post, mail station, and store.
Muddy Creek. — Good grass, wood, and water. Grass
short after many trains have passed. It is then neces-
sary to go up the creek to find good grass. Road passes
a fine spring 3 miles back.
19. Bear River. — Good camps, Avith wood, water, and grass.
SALT LAKE TO SACRAMENTO AND BENICIA. 289
Miles.
Good ford, except in very high water. Sulphur Creek
two miles back,
19. Red Fork. — In "Echo Canon," two miles below Cashe
Cave, good grass and fuel ; water plenty.
19^. Weber River. — Good grass, wood, and water. Mail sta-
tion. United States bridge for high water ; no toll.
5i. Spring Branch. — Good camp. Road leaves the river,
and takes the left into a valley.
9. Bauchmin's Creek. — Road crosses over a mountain, and
descends to the creek, where there is a good camp.
14. Big Canon Creek. — Road crosses Bauchmin's Creek 13
times in 8 miles, then ascends the mountain along a
small creek, which is well wooded and good grass.
6. Emigration Creek. — Road leaves Canon Creek, and
crosses the two mountains, which are very steep and
long. Grass and wood before crossing the "Little
Mountain."
10^. Great Salt Lake City. — Forage can be purchased here,
as well as most of the articles the traveler may require,
at Jiigh. prices. There is no camping-place within two
niiles of the city. It is best for those who encamp with
animals to cross the Jordan River, or to stop near the
mouth of the canon before entering the city.
Total distance from Fort Leavenworth to Salt Lake City,
1168 miles.
V. — Ft'om Salt Lake City to Sacramento and Be-
nicia, California.
Mile3.
From Salt Lake City to
18. Halt's Ranch. — Good road, and grass abundant until
Bear River is crossed.
17i. Ford on Weber River. — Good road, and grass abund-
ant.
15. Point of Mountain. — Spring water warm but pure.
12f. Box Elder Creek. — Excellent water; grass and fuel
abundant in the canons.
23. Ferry on Bear River. — Four miles above the usual cross-
ing. Excellent grass.
T
290 SALT LAKE TO SACRAMENTO AND BENICIA.
Miles.
f . West Bank. — Grass not good on the west bank.
6. Small Spring. — Cross Bear River below the mouth of the
Mallade.
17i. Blue Springs. — Water and grass scarce, and of poor
quality.
21i. Deep Creek. — Heavy sage, but good grass on the right
of the road, near sink.
20i. Cedar Springs. — Good gi*ass on the hills, with fine water
and wood ; rolling country.
10. Rock Creek. — Plenty of grass to the left of the road;
good camping-place.
14^. Raft River. — Good camp.
22i. Goose Creek Mountains. — Grass, wood, and water abund-
ant ; rough and mountainous country. Road from Fort
Bridger comes in here via Soda Springs.
17f. On Goose Creek. — Rough, broken countiy, with a good
road, which runs along the creek for several miles.
28^. Head of 1000 Spring Valley. — Road runs over a rolling,
barren section, with but little water except on the river
far to the right.
25|. 1000 Spring Valley. — Meadow grass ; good fuel scarce.
Camps can be found at short intervals along the
road.
14. Head of Humboldt River. — Fine camping-places, and
road generally good, running over a rolling coun-
try.
23. Slough of the Humboldt. — Extensive bottoms of good
grass.
20. Humboldt River. — Along the entire course of the Hum-
boldt good grass is found in the bottoms. The road,
which follows the bottom, is hard and smooth, but can
not be traveled in seasons of very high water, as the
bottom overflows. It is then necessary to take the road
on the bluffs, where the grass is scarce. The river,
when not above a fording stage, can be forded at almost
any point, and good camps can be found at short inter-
vals. There are spots along the river bottom where
alkaline ponds are frequent. These are poisonous to
cattle, and should be avoided by travelers. It is well
along this river not to allow animals to drink any wa-
ter except from the river where it is running.
20. Humboldt River. — The foregoing remarks apply for every
camp on the Humboldt River.
SALT LAKE TO SACRAMENTO AND BENICIA. 291
Miles.
22. Humboldt River. — Good camps along the Humboldt Val-
ley.
23. Humboldt River.
13^. "
16i. "
25. "
131. "
24. "
24:h "
20i. "
181. "
13i. "
18i. Lawson's Meadows. — The road here forks, the left going
by the Carson Valley and Sacramento route, and the
right via Goose, Clear, and Rhett lakes, Applegate's
Pass of the Cascade Mountains, into Rogue River Val-
ley, Fort Law, Oregon Territory, Yreka, Fort Jones,
Fort Reading, and Sacramento River.
335^. On Humboldt River. — Grass aud water poor all the dis-
tance to the Sink of the Humboldt.
19i. Sink of Humboldt River. — The water at the Sink is
strongly impregnated with alkali ; the road generally
is good. Travelers should not allow their stock to
drink too freely of this water.
26. Head Sink of Humboldt. — Road good.
45. Carson River. — Road crosses the desert, where there is no
water for stock, but there is a well where travelers can
purchase water for drinking. This part of the road
should be traveled in the cool of the day and at night.
Grass good, also the water.
2. Carson River. — Good bunch-grass near the road.
30. Carson River. — 26 miles of desert; poor grass.
14. Eagle Ranch.— Good grass and water. Washoe Mines
near this place.
13. Reese's Ranch. — Good grass and water.
12. Williams' Ranch. — Very good water and grass.
15. Hope Valley. — Road rotigh and rocky.
3. Near Sierra. — Good camp, with water and grass.
7. First Summit. — Road rough and rocky; good water;
grass scarce.
2. Second Summit. — Road mountainous and very steep;
snow nearly all the year.
10. Lakes. — Good camp.
12. Leek Springs. — Good grass near the road.
292 SALT LAKE TO SACRAMENTO AND BENICIA.
Miles.
10. Trader's Creek. — Grass and fuel scarce.
12. Sly Park. — Grass and fuel near the road.
Forty Mile House. — Water plenty ; grass scarce.
Sacramento Valley. — Water plenty; purchase forage.
Sacramento City. — ^Water plenty; purchase forage.
Total distance from Salt Lake City to Benicia, 973 miles.
At the Big Meadows, 23 miles from the Sink of the Hum-
boldt, travelers should make a halt of a day or two to rest and
recruit their animals and to cut grass for crossing the desert, as
this is the last good camping-place until reaching Carson
River. The ground near this place is boggy, and animals
should be watered with buckets. The camping-ground here is
on the right bank of the river, and about half a mile to the left
of the main road. The Avater is in a slough, near its head,
where will be found some springs which run oft" a short distance,
but soon sink.
The road across the desert is very sandy, especially toward
the western extremity. Twenty miles from the Sink of the
Humboldt there are four wells. About half a mile east of the
mail station the road leading to the Avells turns to the right,
where water can be purchased for from one to two shillings for
each man and beast.
At 91^ miles beyond the mail station, on the desert, a road
turns oft" from the main trace toward a very high sandy ridge,
and directly upon the top of this ridge is the crater of an ex-
tinct volcano, at the bottom of which is a salt lake. Upon the
extreme north end of this lake will be found a large spring of
fresh water, sufticient for 1000 animals. From thence to " Eag-
town," on Carson River, is three miles.
I would advise travelers, when their animals become ex-
hausted before reaching this water, to take them out of harness
and drive them to this place to recruit. There is some grass
around the lake.
This desert has always been the most difiicult part of the
journey to California, and more animals have probably been
lost here than at any other place. The parts of Avagons that
are continually met Avith here shows this most incontestably.
GEEAT SALT LAKE CITY TO LOS ANGELES. 293
VI. — From Great Salt Lake City to Los Angeles
and San Frayicisco^ California.
Miles,
Salt Lake City to
20f. Willow Creek. — Good grass.
14. American Creek.— Good grass.
\\\. Provo City.— Town.
7i. Hobble Creek.— Good camp.
6. Spanish Fork.— Good camp.
5. Peteetneet. — Good camp.
25. Salt Creek. — Several small streams between. Good
camp.
18i. Toola Creek.— Ford. No wood; grass good.
6|. Sevier River.— Road is sandy, passing over a high ridge.
Good camp.
25^. Cedar Creek.— Road rather mountainous and sandy.
Good grass and wood.
17i. Creek. — This is the fourth stream south of Sevier River.
Road crosses two streams. Good camp.
3f . Willow Flats. — The water sinks a little east of the road.
25. Spring. — Good grass and water.
221-. Sage Creek. — Grass poor; wood and water.
h\. Beaver Creek. — Good wood, water, and grass.
27t. North Canon Creek. — In Little Salt Lake Valley. Good
grass ; no wood. The road is rough and steep for six
miles.
5|. Creek. — Good wood, water, and grass.
6|. Creek. — Good wood, water, and grass.
12|. Cottonwood Creek. — Good grass and water.
9. Cedar Springs. — Good camp.
23, Pynte Creek, — Good grass one mile up the canon.
9. Road Springs. — Road is rough ; good camp.
16. Santa Clara. — Road descending and rough ; poor grass.
From this point to Cajon Pass look out for Indians.
17i. Camp Springs. — Two miles before reaching the springs
the road leaves the Santa Clara. Good grass,
22|. Rio Virgin, — Road crosses over the summit of a mount-
ain. Good road ; grass poor,
39^. Rio Virgin. — Road runs down the Rio Virgin, crossing it
ten times. Grass good down the river.
19f. Muddy Creek. — Road for half a mile is very steep and
sandy. Good camp.
52f. Las Vegas. — Water is sometimes found 2^ miles west of
294 GREAT SALT LAKE CITY TO LOS ANGELES.
Miles.
the road in holes 23 miles from the Muddy, and some
grass about a mile from the road. Good camp.
5. On Vegas. — Road runs up the river. Good grass.
17. Cottonwood Spring. — Poor grass.
29f . Cottonwood Grove. — No grass. "Water and grass can be
found four miles west by following the old Spanish trail
to a ravine, and thence to the left in the ravine one
mile.
21f. Eesting Springs. — Good grass and water. Animals should
be rested here before entering the desert.
7. Spring. — The spring is on the left of the road, and flows
into Saleratus Creek. Animals must not be allowed to
drink the Saleratus water.
14^. Salt Springs. — Poor grass and no fresh water.
38f. Bitter Springs. — Good road ; poor grass.
30|. Mohave River. — Good road and good grass.
51^. On the Mohave. — Last ford. Good grass all the way up
the Mohave.
17. Cajon Pass. — At the summit.
10. Camp. — Road bad down the cauon.
Hi. Coco Mongo Ranch,
10. Del Chino Ranch. — Williams.
19|. San Gabriel River.
6. San Gabriel Mission.
8i. Pueblo de los Angeles.
65|. Santa Clara River.— On the Coast Route. Good camps
to San Jose.
7i. Buena Ventura Mission and River.— Road here strikes
the Pacific shore.
26. Santa Barbara. — Town.
45f. San Yenness River.— At the Mission.
781. Santa Margareta.— Old Mission.
28|. San Miguel.— Old Mission.
24f . San Antonio River.
26f . Rio del Monterey.
15f. Solida Mission.— At the ford of Rio del Monterey.
37^^. San Juan Mission.
33. San Jose Pueblo.
75. San Francisco.
FOET BRIDGER TO THE CITY OF ROCKS. 295
VII. — From Fort Bridger to the " City of JRochs.^''
From Captain Hancock's Journal.
Miles.
Fort Bridger to
9. Little Muddy Creek. — Water brackish in pools along
the creek; tall bunch-grass; sage for fuel. Road
runs over a barren section, is rough, and passes one
steep hill.
12^. Big Muddy Creek. — The road, with the exception of
two or three bad gullies, is good for ten miles ; it then
follows the Big Muddy bottom, which is flat and bog-
gy. The camp is three miles above the crossing.
Some grass ; sage for fuel.
141. Small Branch of the Muddy Creek. — Cross the river in
three miles at a bad ford. A mile above camp the
grass is good. Eoad generally good.
19^. On Small Creek. — Road continues up the Muddy 9^-
miles to its head. It then ascends to the divide be-
tween Bear and Green Rivers, probably 800 feet, in
1-| miles. The descent on the other side is about the
same. The road passes many fine springs. At one
and two miles back it passes points of hills, where it
is very rough. Good grass and sage at camp.
8^. Bear River. — Bad creek to cross near the camp ; thence
to Bear River Valley the road is good. It then fol-
lows down the river, crossing Willow Creek, Good
camp, with a large, fine spring.
17. Bear River. — Good road along the river ; plenty of wood,
water, and grass at all points,
18-i. Foot of Grant's Mountain. — Road runs along Beat
River; at 2t miles strikes Smith's Fork, a rapid trout
stream. The road crosses the lower ford. A few
miles farther on is a bad slough, which can be avoided
by taking a round on the hills. Cross Thomas's Fork
on a bridge, also a slough near it ; toll $2.00 for each
team and wagon. The road then leaves Bear River
Valley, and turns over a very steep hill. Good grass,
wood, and water.
12. Bear River.— Road ascends Grant's Mountain 1200 feet
in 1^ miles — double teams — then descends again into
Bear River Valley at 4|^ miles. Good wood, water,
and grass.
296 FOET BRIDGER TO THE CITY OF ROCKS.
Miles.
17f . Indian Creek. — Koad crosses eight fine spring branches ;
camp is on a beautiful trout stream. Good wood,
water, and grass.
11. Spring near Bear River. — Road is hilly, crossing two
spring branches. Good wood, water, and grass. The
camp is on the left and near the road.
11. Bear River. — At Gj^j miles the road strikes a large
group of springs called "Soda Springs," and here
crosses Pine Creek, on the left bank of which is a sal-
eratus lake. Soon after it strikes the main springs,
and after crossing another creek the " Steam-boat
Spring" may be seen in the bed of the river.
15. "Port Neuf," or Rock Creek.— At 2^^ miles the road
leaves Bear River near where it runs through a canon
with high bluffs on each side. At this point the Cal-
ifornia and Fort Hall roads separate. The California
road (called Hudspeth's Cut-off) then crosses a valley
between the Bear River and Port Neuf River Mount-
ains, 9 miles. No water from camp to camp. Good
camp.
15. Marsh Creek. — About two miles above the main road
the creek can be forded ; a road leads to it from the
descent into the valley. Road good ; water and grass
plenty ; no wood.
16-^. Pannack Creek.— First part of the road is hilly ; the re-
mainder good. Good camp.
7^. Mallade River. — At 7i miles the road crosses the Mal-
lade River. Good camp 140 miles from Salt Lake
City. Good road.
22-j^. Small Creek. — The road ascends a ridge through a
canon, and descends to a valley on the other side.
From the camp to the summit of the ridge is 61
miles. The descent is 3-j^ miles. It then crosses a
valley 8 miles wide, and strikes a canon which leads
to the top of a hill over a rough road. Plenty of
wood, water, and grass at camp, but no water between
this and the last camp.
9§. Small Creek. — Road after five miles strikes a canon
with a long but gentle ascent. Two miles from the
entrance of this canon is a spring branch. There is
wood and some grass and water at this place.
11^. Spring Branch. — The road passes througli a canon, and
FORT BRIDGER TO THE CITY OF ROCKS. 297
Miles.
at 5 miles strikes the head of a spring hranch, which
it follows down 2^ miles to the junction with a larger
branch, which is bridged. At nine tenths of a mile
another fork enters. Grass very fine here. Road fol-
lows down this across the main branch, and the camp
is 2 miles below. Good camp.
18i. Decassure Creek, or Raft River. — Road continues down
the creek 2-^ miles, and crosses, then ascends by a
steep hill to an elevated sage plain, leaving the creek
at llf miles, and passes a slough with water. Good
camp.
17-^. Spring Branch. — The road crosses the creek near the
last camp, and follows up a valley, crossing in five
miles several spring branches. At 2^ miles it
crosses the creek again, and follows up the valley two
miles farther, then crosses a high sage plain 8-^
miles long, when it strikes a spring 150 yards to the
left of the road, where there is an excellent camp in
a beautiful valley.
10. Junction of Salt Lake City Road. — Road passes several
small branches in 3 miles, then commences ascending
through a canon which, in 2^ miles, leads to the en-
trance to the "City of Rocks," and passes through
these for three miles. It then crosses a ridge, leaving
the City of Rocks, and at ten miles from last camp
intersects the road from "Salt Lake City." (At 1-|
miles beyond this a road leads off to the right to a
spring branch, 3 miles, where there is a good camp
near the foot of Goose Creek Mountain. From this
point California travelers can refer to the itinerary of
the route from Salt Lake City to Sacramento.)
298 sublet's cut-off.
VIII. — From Soda jS])rings to the City of Bocks^
knovm as BJudspetNs Cut-off.
Miles.
Soda Springs to
20. Bear River. — The road runs down Bear River, crossing
some small streams. Good camp.
10. Portner Creek. — Camp at the head of the creek. Good
wood, water, and grass.
12. Fork of Portner Creek. — Good camp.
15. Pannack Creek. — ^Road crosses a summit. Good road and
camp.
12. Snake Spring. — Good camp.
12. Utha Spring. — Good camp.
15. Decassure Creek. — Road crosses a small stream; rather
bad crossing. Good camp.
18. City of Rocks. — Junction of Salt Lake road. Good camp.
IX. — Sublette's Cut-off^ from Salt Lake City Moad.,
west of South Pass^ to Bear River.
Miles.
Junction to
7. Big Sandy.
44. Green River. — From the Big Sandy to Green River (upper
road) there is an abundance of grass in places along the
road, but no water.
6. Small Creek. — The road runs up the creek. Good grass.
4. On the Creek. — Good grass and water.
12. Small Spring. — The spring is on the left of the road.
Good grass.
9. Ham's Fork. — Good wood, water, and grass.
6. Spring. — On the summit of a mountain. Good grass.
6. Muddy Creek. — ^Wood, water, and grass.
10. Spring. — In Bear River Valley. Good wood, water, and
grass.
6. Smith's Fork. — In Bear River Valley. Good wood, wa-
ter, and grass.
10. Tomaus' Fork. — Road runs down Bear River. Good wood,
water, and grass.
7. Spring Creek. — Wood, water, and grass.
7. Smith's Ford. — Road crosses over a spur of the mountain ;
long and gradual ascent ; descent rather abrupt. Good
wood, water, and grass.
lawson's meadows to poet readin-g. 299
The road here connects with Captain Hancock's route
from Fort Bridger to the City of Rocks. Sec Itinerary No.
X. — From Laicson^s Meadoics^ on the Humholdt
Miver^ to Fort Reading^ via Rogue River Yalley^
Fort La7%e^ Oregon Territory^ Yreka^ a7id Fort
Jones.
Miles.
Lawson's Meadows to
18j. Mountain Spring. — Road leaves the Humboldt, and takes
a northwesterly course 12 miles to a spring of good wa-
ter. Good bunch-grass to the left of the road, and a
small spring at the camp. The road is plain on leav-
ing the river, but after a few days it becomes faint.
Road from this point passes over a desert country for
about 60 miles, without good water or much grass.
38^-. Black Rock Spring. — Road level and hard, with little
vegetation. In 14 miles pass springs, but the water is
not good. In 16 miles the road passes a slough which
is difficult to cross ; water not good, but can be given
to cattle in small quantities. In five miles from this
the road passes Black Rock, mentioned by Colonel
Fremont in his trip from Columbia River in 1843-4.
Three miles farther pass boiling springs, very hot, but
good cooled. Grass pretty good.
20i. Mountain Rill. — Water good; bunch-grass in the vicin-
ity. In eight miles' travel the road passes a beautiful
creek of pure water, with good grass.
5|. Lake (Marshy).
10^. High Rock Cailon. — This canon is 25 miles long, with
Ivild and curious scenery. Road crosses the creek fre-
300 lawson's meadows to foet reading.
Milea.
quently, and the mud is bad. In the autumn the road
is good.
141 . High Rock Canon.
Small Creek. — Beautiful country, with the greatest abund-
ance of water and grass ; also fuel.
25^. Pine Grove Creek. — Road passes over an interesting coun-
try, well supplied with wood, water, and grass, and
passes around the south end of a salt lake.
18^. West Slope of Sierra. — Road passes over the mountain,
which is steep but not rocky, then descends to a small
creek of good water which runs into Goose Lake.
Good grass and fuel. Look out for the Indians, as they
are warlike and treacherous here.
7f . East shore of Goose Lake. — Excellent camp.
16i. West shore of Goose Lake. — This is a beautiful sheet of
fresh water; great quantities of water-fowl resort to
this lake.
IGf. Slough Springs. — The road passes over a very rocky di-
vide, covered with loose volcanic debris, very hard for
animals, and wearing to their feet. They should be
well shod before attempting the passage.
18I-. Marshy Lake. — Road difficult for wagons.
15. Clear Lake. — Beautiful lake of pure water, with good
grass around its shore.
25i. East shore of Rhett's Lake. — ^Road tolerable over a roll-
ing, rocky country, between lakes. The road crosses
Lost River over a natural bridge, on a solid, smooth
ledge of rock.
19. West shore of Rhett's Lake. — Plenty of wood, water, and
grass along this road.
21. Klamath River. — Road leaves Rhett's Lake, and enters
the forest and mountains ; tolerably good. Good
camp.
15^. Cascade Mountains. — The road passes over high mount-
ains, through lofty pine-trees. Camp is at Summit
Meadows. Good water and grass, also fuel.
14i. Western slope of Cascade Mountains. — Rough roads.
19|:. Rogue River Valley. — Road descends into the settlements
in six miles, where there is a lovely fertile valley, well
settled with farmers.
23|. Fort Lane. — Near "Table Rock," on Rogue River, eight
miles from Jacksonville. Dragoon post.
22 J. Rogue River Valley. — Good camp.
SODA SPEINGS TO FORT WALLAH WALLAH. 301
Miles.
18. Siskiyou Mountains. — Road crosses the Siskiyou Mount-
ains, and is difficult for wagons.
18. Yreka. — Flourishing mining city.
18. Fort Jones. — Infantiy post, in Scott's Valley.
20. Scott's Mountain. — Good camp at the foot of the mount-
ain. Road passes over the mountains, but is impass-
able for wagons.
90. Shasta City. — Good grass, wood, and water.
180. Sacramento City.
XI. — From Soda /Sprmr/s to Fort Wallah Wallah
and Oregon City^ Oregon^ via Fort Hall.
Miles.
Soda Springs to
25. Portner Creek. — Good camp. Take the right-hand road.
10. Ross's Creek. — Good camp.
10. Fort Hall Valley. — Good camp. Road runs down the
creek.
8. Snake River. — Good camp. Road crosses the river bot-
tom.
5. Fort Hall.
15. Small Branch. — Camp is three miles below the crossing
of Fort Neuf River, which is fordable. Good Avood, wa-
ter, and grass.
10. American Falls. — Good camp.
13. Raft River. — Road rough and rocky. Sage for fuel ; grass
scarce.
17. Bend of Swamp Creek. — Grass scarce.
20. On Snake River. — Road crosses Swamp and Goose Creeks.
Wood on the hills ; grass short.
25. Rock Creek. — Road crosses one small creek, and is very
rough and rocky for several miles, when it enters a sandy
region, where the grass is scarce ; sage plenty, and wil-
lows on the creek.
24. Snake River. — Road crosses several small branches. There
is but little grass except in narrow patches along the
river bottom.
26. Fishing Falls. — Road very crooked and rough, crossing
two small streams.
29. Snake River. — Road crosses several small creeks, but leaves
302 SODA SPEINGS TO FORT WAXLAH WALLAH.
Miles.
the main river to the north, and runs upon an elevated
plateau. Good grass at camp.
16. Snake River (ford). — Road tortuous; ford good in low
water.
19. Small Branch. — Road crosses Snake River, and follows up
a small branch, leaving the river to the left. Good
grass. Road ascends to a high plateau, which it keeps
during the whole distance.
26. River " Aux Rochers." — Road passes Hot Springs, and is
rough. Wood, water, and grass plenty.
22. Small Creek. — Road crosses two small branches, and is
very rocky, but at camp grass, wood, and water are
abundant.
23. Rio Boise. — Road crosses one small creek, and foUows
along the Boise River. Good wood, water, and grass.
26. Fort Boise. — Road follows the south bank of Boise River
to the fort.
2. Fort Boise. — Road crosses Boise River. Good ford at or-
dinary stages. Grass good in the river bottom.
20. River "Aux Matthews." — Good road. Grass abundant,
but coarse ; wood and water plenty.
27. Snake River. — Road passes over a rough country. Grass
scarce and of a poor quality.
20. Burnt River. — Road leaves Snake River, and takes across
Burnt River, following up the north side of this to the
camp. It is mountainous and rough, but the grass is
good, and there is wood along the river.
22. Burnt River, — Road continues up the river, and is still
rough and mountainous. Grass and wood plenty.
26. Small Branch, — Road passes over a divide to "Powder
River. " It is still rough, but getting better. The grass
is good.
13. Powder River. — Good road ; gi'ass plenty.
21. Creek. — Road passes a divide, crossing several small
streams, and is smooth, with plenty of grass and fuel.
20. Creek. — Road crosses one small branch, and is rather
rough. The grass and fuel are good and abundant.
21. Creek. — Road follows down the creek for ten miles, then
turns up a small branch, and is good. There is plenty
of grass and fuel.
12. Branch. — Road crosses a divide and strikes another branch.
5. Small branch of the Umatilah River. — Good road, with
plenty of wood and grass.
SODA SPRINGS TO FORT WALLAH WALLAH. 303
Miles.
16. Branch of "Wallah Wallah River. — Wood, water, anrl
grass.
18. Wallah Wallah River. — Wood, water, and grass.
18. Wallah Wallah River. — ^Wood, water, and grass.
Columbia River at Port Wallah Wallah. — Wood, water,
and grass.
10. Butler Creek. — Good camp.
18. Wells's Spring. — Good camp.
12. Willow Creek. — Good camp.
13. Cedar Spring, — Good camp.
6. John Day's River. — Good camp.
5. Forks of Road. — No camping. Left-hand road for wag-
ons, and right-hand for pack trains. This itinerary
takes the left.
10. Ouley's Camp. — Good camp.
19. Soot's River. — Good camp.
6. Fall River. — Good camp.
10. Utah's River. — Good camp.
18. Soot's River. — Good camp.
6. Soot's River. — Good camp. Road follows up the river,
crossing it several times.
16. Sand River Fork. — Good grass a mile and a half to the left
of the road.
8. Good Camp.
15. Royal Hill Camp. — Good camp.
7. Sandy River. — But little grass.
45. Down the River. — Good camps all the distance.
25. Oregon City. — Good camps all the distance.
75. Salem. — Good camps all the distance.
304 INDIANOLA TO SAN ANTONIO.
XII. — Route for pack trains from John Day's
River to Oregon City.
Miles.
John Day's River to
17. Columbia River. — From John Day's River to the forks of
the road, and thence by the right-hand fork to the Co-
lumbia. Good camp.
2\. Soot's River Ferry. — Good camp.
15. Dalles. — Good camp.
25. Dog River. — Good camp.
15. Cascade Mountains. — One bad place.
9. Ouley's Rock. — Good camp.
20. Image Plain Feny. — Good camp.
15. Portland. — Good camp.
12, Oregon City. — Good camp.
Xni. — From IncUa7iola and Powder-horn to San
A^itonio, Texas.
Miles.
Powder-horn to
4. Indianola, Texas. — Steamers run from New Orleans five
times a week to Powder-horn.
14. Chocolate Creek. — Good grass and water; fuel scarce.
Road passes over a low, flat countiy, which in wet
weather is heavy and muddy.
12. Grove. — Grove of oak ; good water and grass. The road
passes over a hog-wallow prairie, which is very muddy,
and almost impassable for loaded teams after rains.
The gi'ass is abundant every where in this section.
12^. Victoria. — The road is good, passing along near the east
bank of the Guadalupe River. The country is thickly
settled with farmers, who sell grain at reasonable rates.
Grass abundant, also fuel.
34. Yorktown. — Road crosses the Guadalupe River on a
bridge ; toll one dollar for a six-mule team. It then
crosses a low bottom for three miles ; from thence the
road is good, over a rolling country, with plenty of wood,
water, and grass.
33. Cibello River. — Good road ; wood, water, and grass plenty.
35. San Antonio. — Good road, with plenty of wood, water,
and grass along the road. The Cibello is fordable at
ordinary stages. The traveler can procure any thing
he may need at Victoria and at San Ajatonio.
SAN ANTONIO TO FORT YUMA. 305
XrV. — 'Wagon-road from San A^itonio^ Texas^ to
El JPaso, JV. M., and Fort Yimia, Cal.
[Distances in miles and hundredths of a mile.]
Miles.
San Antonio to
6.41. Leona.
18.12. Castroville.
11.00. Hondo.
14.28. Rio Seco.
12.50. Sabinal.
13.46. Rio Frio.
15.12. Nueces.
10.27. Turkey Creek.
15.33. Elm Creek. — All good camps, with abundance of wood,
water, and grass. Country mostly settled, and the
road very good, except in wet weather, from San
Antonio to Elm Creek.
7.00. Fort Clarke. — Good grass, wood, and water. Road
, level and good.
7.00. Piedra Pinta. — Good grass, wood, and water.
8.86. Maverick's Creek. — Good grass, wood, and water.
12.61. San Felipe. — Good grass, wood, and water.
10.22. Devil's River. — First crossing. Good wood, water, and
grass.
18.27. California Springs. — Grass and water poor.
18.39. Devil's River. — Second crossing. Grass poor.
19.50. Devil's River. — Good camp. The only water between
Devil's River and Live Oak Creek is at Howard's
Springs. The road is very rough in places.
44.00. Howard's Springs, — Grass scarce; water plenty in win-
ter ; wood plenty,
30.44. Live Oak Creek, — Good water and grass. The road
passes within 1^ miles of Fort Lancaster.
7.29. Crossing of Pecos River. — Bad water and bad camp.
The water of the Pecos can be used.
5.47. Las Moras. — Good water, grass, and wood. The road
is rough on the Pecos.
32.85. Camp on the Pecos River. — Wood and grass scarce.
16.26. Escondido Creek. — At the crossing. Water good;
little grass or wood.
8.76. Escondido Spring. — Grass and water good ; little grass.
19.40. Comanche Creek. — Grass and water good ; little grass.
8.88. Leon Springs. — Grass and water good ; no wood.
u
306 SAN ANTONIO TO FOKT TUMA.
Miles.
33.86. Barela Spring. — Grass and water pood; wood plenty.
28.00. Fort Davis. — Good camp. From Fort Davis to Eaglo
Springs there is an ascent, and one of the very best
of roads.
18.42. Barrel Springs. — Water good ; grass and wood fair.
13.58. Dead Man's Hole. — Good wood and water; grass
scarce.
32.83. Van Home's Wells. — No grass or wood, but they will
be found two miles back.
19.74. Eagle Springs. — Grass and wood poor; water about
half a mile from camp, in a narrow canon.
32.03. Mouth of Canon "de los Camenos." — The road is
rather rough. From here to Fort Bliss, opposite El
Paso, the road runs near the river, and camps may
be made any where. The wood, water, and grass are
good at all points.
61.13. San Eluzario. — Mexican toAvn.
9.25. Socorro. — Mexican town.
15.00. Fort Bliss, at El Paso. — United States military pogt
and Mexican town.
Total distance from San Antonio to El Paso, 654.27
miles.
Miles.
El Paso to
22. Cottonwood. — From El Paso to Messilla Valley, in the
Gadsden Purchase, the road runs up the east bank of
the Rio Grande to Fort Fillmore (N. M.), where it
crosses the river into the Messilla Valley.
22. Fort Fillmore.
6. La Messilla.
65. Cook's Spring. — From Messilla Valley to Tucson the road
is remarkably good, with good grass and water. The
streams on this section are the Mimbres and San Pedro,
both fordable, and crossed with little trouble. The
Apache Indians are generally met with in this country.
There is a flouring-mill two miles below El Paso, where
flour can be purchased at very reasonable prices.
18. Rio Mimbres.
17. Ojo la Vaca.
10. Ojo de Ynez.
34. Peloncilla.
18. San Domingo.
SAK ANTONIO TO FORT YUMA. 30V
Miles.
23. Apache Springs.
9. Cabesas Springs.
26. Dragon Springs.
18. Quercos Canon. — Bunch-grass will be found sufficient for
traveling purposes along this section of the road between
El Paso and Tucson.
6. San Pedro Crossing.
20. Cienega.
13. Cienega Creek.,
20. Mission of San Xavier.
8. Tucson. — Total distance from El Paso to Tucson, 305
miles.
5. Pico Chico Mountain.
35. First Camp on Gila River.
29. Maricopa Wells. — The Maricopa Wells are at the western
extremity of a fertile valley occupied by Pincos Indians,
who cultivate corn and other grain.
40. Tezotal. — Across Jornada. There is but little grass here,
but in the season the mesquite leaves are a good sub-
stitute.
10. Ten Mile Camp.
15. Oatman's Flat. — First ciossing of the Gila River.
25. Second Crossing of the Gila. — The traveler can generally
find sufficient grass in the hills along the valley of the
Gila.
32. Peterman's Station.
20. Antelope Peak.
24. Little Corral.
16. Fort Yirnia.
The distance from El Paso to Fort Yuma is 644 miles.
308 • FOET YUMA TO SAN DIEGO.
WELL EN THE DEBEET. — ALAilO MOCHO.
XV. — From Fort Yuma to San Diego^ Cali-
fornia.
[Distances in miles and hundredths of a mile.]
Miles.
Fort Yuma to
10.00. Los Algodones. — Along the Colorado.
10.00. Cook's Wells. — Here commences the great desert ; wa-
ter nowhere good or reliable until arriving at Carizo
Creek. The points named are where deep wells have
been dug. ' ' New River, " though usually set down,
is a dry arroyo. The surface of the desert for seven
miles on the eastern side is drifting sand and heavy
for wagons. Then comes a section in the centre of
the desert that is hard and level. On the west side
Ihere is about three miles of a mud flat.
21.90. Alamo Rancho.
16.40. Little Laguna.
FOET YUMA TO SAN DIEGO. 303
Miles.
4.50. New River.
5.80. Big Laguna.
20.40. Carizo Creek. — Water good; cane and brush for fuel,
and they afford some forage for the animals; no
grass.
16.60. Vallecito. — Grass poor; wood and water sufficient.
1 7.80. San Felipe. — Grass poor ; wood scarce ; water good.
15.80. Warner's Ranch. — The road passes through a beautiful
oak grove, where there is an abundance of grass and
water. This is the summit of the mountain. At the
Ranch the grass is poor, and no wood. The water
is good. The oak grove terminates six miles from
Warner's.
10.30. Santa Isabel. — Good grass, wood, and water. This
was an old Spanish mission, but is now occupied by
some Americans and Indians.
11.40. Laguna. — Two miles from last camp is a good camp-
ing-place. The road passes over some steep hills,
not high. This is the best camp on the road.
12.00. San Pasquel. — For the first nine miles the road is level
and good to the top of the mountain, where there is a
good camping-place, with wood, water, and grass;
thence the road descends a very steep hill. The camp
is on the east side of the brook, near Soto's house.
18.80. Parrasquitas. — The road passes a good camp three
miles from San Pasqual. Wood, Water, and grass at
Parrasquitas.
8.00. Fisher's House. — The road passes over several hills, and
at four miles is a good camping-place. Wood, wa-
ter, and grass at camp.
San Diego, California. — When animals are to be kept
a considerable time at San Diego, they should be
taken four or five miles up the river, as the grass is
poor near the town.
Total distance from Fort Yuma to San Diego, 217 miles.
310 EL PASO TO FOET YUMA.
XVI. — From El Paso ^ Neio Mexico^ to Fort Yuma^
California^ via Santa Cruz,
[Distances in miles and hundredths of a mile.]
Jliles.
Prom El Paso to
26.10, Samalayuca. — Spring, with grass and wood.
38.00. Salado. — Bad water, with little grass and wood.
24.75. Santa Maria. — Good grass, wood, and water.
27.50. Mines of San Pedro. — Bad water ; little grass or water.
19.20. Correlitos. — Good water, grass, and wood. '
20.00. Janos. — Good water, grass, and wood.
12.00. Pelatudo. — Good water, grass, and wood.
30.00. San Francisco. — Water half a mile south of the road.
18.00. San Louis. — Good water, grass, and wood.
35.00. San Bernardino. — Good water, grass, and wood.
30.00. Ash Creek. — Grass, wood, and water.
37.00. Head of San Pedro, — Grass and water.
24.00, Santa Cruz. — Good grass, wood, and water.
31.00, Cocospe. — Much grass; 10 or 12 miles without water.
Leave Santa Cruz River at old Rancho San Lazaro.
No water till reaching the head of San Ignacio, ex-
cept at nine miles, a spring one mile west of the
road.
26.00. Hemores. — From Cocospe to Santa Anna follow down
the San Ignacio, and in many places there is wood
and grass. Grass is much better at three miles from
the river. At the foot of the hills there is an abund-
ance of grama-grass.
5.00. Terrenati.
4.00. San Ignacio.
5.20. Madina.
5.20. San Lorenzo.
2.60. Santa Marta.
5.20. Santa Anna.
26.00. Alamita, — Plenty of grass. Leave the river 10 or 12
miles from Santa Anna, and no water thence to Ala-
mita, which is a small rancho,
31.20. Altar. — No water; grass abundant.
13.00. Laguna. — Small water-hole ; grass scanty and poor.
52.00. Sonia. — Sometimes water is found 25 miles from the
Laguna, south of the road. There is a well at So-
nia in the town, and sometimes water in a hole 300
yards south of the town, 100 yards west of the road.
WESTPOKT TO PIKE's PEAK. 311
Miles.
10.40. El Paso. — ^Well at El Paso supplying 100 animals;
water muddy and brackish ; grass poor.
52.00. Sonorita. — No water on the road ; at Sonorita are sev-
eral brackish springs. Grass poor; bad camping-
place ; saltpetre at the springs.
Quita Oaquita. — No water on the road. Saline spring
at camp, better than at Sonorita, but the grass is not
so good.
10.40. Agua Salado. — Water uncertain ; grass poor.
23.40. Los Pleyes. — Water only in the rainy season, one mile
west of the road, hidden by bushes and difficult to
find. Grass pretty good.
28.60. Cabeza Prieta. — Natural tenajas in a ravine two miles
from the road ; follow a wagon-track up this ravine
between a black and a red mountain. The water is
good and abundant ; grass tolerable.
SI. 00. Poso. — No water on the road until reaching Poso.
Here it is abundant on the east side of the road;
grass good one mile west.
13.00. Rio Gila.— But little good grass.
26.00. Fort Yuma, at the crossing of the Colorado Piver. —
But little good grass for several miles.
Total distance from El Paso to Fort Yuma, 756 miles.
XYII. — From Westport^ Missouri^ to the gold dig-
gmgs at Pikers Peak aiid '-'- Cherry Creek^'' N.
T.^ via the Arkansas River.
Miles.
Westport to
41 . Indian Creek. — The road runs over a beautiful country.
Indian Creek is a small wooded stream, with abund-
ance of grass and water.
8f. Cedar Creek. — The road passes over a fine country, and
there is a good camping-place at Cedar Creek.
^\. Bull Creek. — The road is smooth and level, with less
wood than before. Camping good.
^\. Willov/ Springs. — At nine miles the road passes "Black
Jack Creek," where there is a good camping-place.
The road has but little wood upon it at first, but it in-
'£S PEAK a.
CHERRY CREEK,
313
Miles.
creases toward the end of the march. The road is
level for some distance, but becomes more rolling, and
the country is covered with the finest grass. Good
camp at one mile from the main road.
20^. 110-Mile Creek. — The road traverses the same character
of countiy as yesterday, but with less woodland, is very
smooth, and at 9 and 12 miles passes "Rock Creeks,"
which have no running water in a dry season. Good
camp.
22i. Prairie Chicken Creek. — At eight miles the road crosses
Dwissler Creek, which is a fine little stream; four
miles farther First Dragoon Creek, and at one mile
farther the Second Dragoon Creek, both fine streams,
well wooded, and good camping-places. Good camp.
20. "Big Rock Creek." — At one mile the road crosses a
small wooded branch. Three miles beyond it crosses
"Elm Creek," where a good camping-place may be
found. At 7 miles it crosses 142-Mile Creek, and at
13 miles it crosses Bluff Creek, where there is a good
camping-place. Good camp.
20. "Council Grove," on "Elm Creek. — Road passes "Big
John Spring" at 13 miles, and is smooth and good. A
fine camp is found three fourths of a mile beyond the
"Grove," on Elm Creek, with abundance of wood,
water, and grass.
16. Diamond Spring. — At eight miles the road crosses Elm
Creek, and passes over a section similar to that east of
Council Grove. It is fine in dry weather, but muddy
after heavy rains. Good camp at Diamond Spring.
16. Lost Spring. — One mile from camp the road passes a
wooded creek. From thence there is no more wood
or permanent water until arriving at camp. Take
wood here for cooking, as there is not a tree or bush in
sight from Lost Spring. The country becomes more
level, with grass every where. The road is muddy in
wet weather.
15|. Cottonwood Creek. — Road continues over a prairie coun-
try, sensibly rising and improving. Wood, water, and
grass at camp.
22. Turkey Creek.— The road is good, and at 18 miles passes
Little Turkey Creek. No wood, and the water poor
at camp ; grass good.
23. Little Arkansas River.— The road runs over a level prai-
314
Miles.
rie, and at 3i miles passes "Big Turkey Creek," with
the Arkansas River Valley in sight all day. After
rains there are frequent pools of water along the road.
Good camp.
20. "Big Cow" Creek. — The road passes for ten miles over a
level prairie to Charez Creek, which is a bushy gully ;
thence six miles to Little Cow Creek, which is a brushy
stream, with here and there a tree. Good camp here
to the left of the road, near a clump of trees. "Prai-
rie-dog towTis" commence to be seen. Road very level.
Buffalo-grass here.
20. Big Bend of the Arkansas. — The road at 12 miles strikes
the sand-hills of the Arkansas River. They are soon
passed, however, and the level river bottom is reached.
The river has a rapid current flowing over a quicksand
bed. The road is generally good from the last camp.
Wood, water, and grass at camp.
7. Walnut Creek. — The road is good. Cool springs at this
camp ; good grass and wood.
21. Head of Coon Creek. — At five miles the road forks, one
following the river, the other a ' ' short cut" ' ' dry route"
to Fort Atkinson, where they uaite on the river. The
country rises for ten miles on the dry route, then de-
scends to the river, and is covered with the short buffa-
lo-grass. N-o wood at camp.
18. Arkansas River. — The road passes over an undulating
and uninteresting prairie, with but little vegetation.
The water in dry weather is in pools.
19. Arkansas River, at Fort Atkinson. — The road runs over
a similar country to that of yesterday, with no wood
near ; plenty of buffalo-chips for cooking, and good grass.
18i. Arkansas River. — At 4|^ miles the road ascends a bluff
covered with thick buffalo - grass. On the river is
heavy bottom-grass. At 17 miles pass a ford. Grass
good at camp.
lOy. Arkansas River. — The road is sandy for 14 miles, but not
deep except in places; thence to camp it is good.
Good camp.
22. Arkansas River. — Country prairie, covered with short
buffalo-grass. Good camp.
22. Arkansas River. — The road is fine, crossing several dry
beds of creeks, along which are seen a few scattering
trees. Good camp on a dry creek near the river.
WESTPOET TO PIKE's PEAK. 315
Miles.
24. Arkansas Biver. — The road runs over a barren plain at
the foot of the main plateau, and crosses two dry creeks
near the camp, on which are cottonwood-trees. Plenty
of wood at camp.
21. Arkansas River. — The road follows the base of the hills
at from one to three miles from the river. Good
camp.
20. Arkansas River. — At seven miles the road strikes the
"Big Timbers," where there is a large body of cotton-
wood ; thence for three miles the road is heavy sand.
Good camps along here.
13. Arkansas River. — At one mile the road passes some old
houses formerly used as a trading-post. Here termin-
ates the "Big Timbers." Coarse grass at the camp.
15. Arkansas River. — At three miles the road passes the
mouth of Purgatoire Creek. Camp is below Bent's
Fort. Good grass here.
24. Arkansas River. — Pass Bent's Fort. The grass is excel-
lent in the vicinity of the fort, but after this it is not so
good. The road runs over a high and considerably
broken country. Good camp.
11. Arkansas River. — Opposite the mouth of the Apishpa
Creek ; good camp. The Huerfano Mountains and
Spanish Peaks are in sight from the camp. The
" Cherokee Trail" comes in from Arkansas near Bent's
Fort, and leads to the gold diggings at Cherry Creek.
9. Arkansas River. — Opposite the mouth of the Huerfano
Creek. Good camp, and a ford opposite Charles Au-
debee's house.
12. Arkansas River. — At this point the Cherokee trail bears
to the right and leaves the river. The left-hand, or
river road, runs up to the old pueblo at the mouth of
the Fontaine qui Bouille Creek. The right-hand road
leads to the gold diggings.
15|. Fontaine qui Bouille. — The road strikes in a northwest
course over the rolling country, and comes upon the
creek at a most beautiful camp, Avhere there is a great
abundance of good wood, water, and grass. The wood,
water, and grass are good at all points on the Fontaine
qui Bouille, and travelers can camp any where upon
this stream.
17^. Fontaine qui Bouille. — Here the road forks, one running
up the river, and the other striking directly across to
316
WESTPORT TO PIKE's PEAK.
SANGEE DE CEISTO PA8&
Miles.
the divide of the Arkansas and Platte. I prefer the
left-hand road, as it has more water and better grass
npon it.
61. Forks of the " Fontaine qui Bouille."— The road to Cher-
ry Creek here leaves the "Fontaine qui Bouille" and
bears to the right. There is a large Indian trail which
crosses the main creek, and takes a northwest course
toward "Pike's Peak." By going up this trail about
two miles a mineral spring will be found, which gives
the stream its name of "Tl^e Fountain that Boils."
This spring, or, rather, these springs, as there are tw'o,
both of which boil up out of solid rock, are among the
greatest natural curiosities that I have ever seen. The
water is strongly impregnated with salts, but is delight-
ful to the taste, and somewhat similar to the Congress-
317
Miles.
water. It will well compensate any one for the trouble
of visiting it.
17i. Black Squirrel Creek. — This creek is near the crest of
the high divide between the Arkansas and Platte Rivers.
It is a small running branch, but always affords good
water. There is pine timber here, and the grass is
good on the prairies to the east. This is a locality
which is very subject to severe storms, and it was here
that I encountered the most severe snow-storm that I
have ever known, on the first day of May, 1858. I
would advise travelers to hasten past this spot as rap-
idly as possible during the winter and spring months,
as a storm might prove very serious here.
14. Near the head of Cherry Creek. — The road crosses one
small branch at fom' miles from Black Squirrel Creek ;
it then takes up to an elevated plateau, which in a rainy
season is very muddy. The camp is at the first timber
that is found, near the road, to the left. There is plenty
of wood, water, and grass here. There is also a good
camping-place at the small branch that is mentioned.
10. On CheiTy Creek. — There is good grass, wood, and wa-
ter throughout the valley of Cherry Creek. The mount-
ains are from five to ten miles distant, on the left or
west of the road, and when I passed there was a great
abundance of elk, deer, antelope, bear, and turkeys
throughout this section.
7. On Cherry Creek. — Good camp.
11. On Cherry Creek. — Good camp.
17. Mouth of Cherry Creek, at the South Platte. — Good
camp, and a town built up since I passed, called '■'Den-
ver City.''''
Total distance from Westport to the gold diggings, 685 i
miles.
318 ST. Paul's to foet wallah wallah.
XVlll.— Mom St. PauVs, Min., to Fort Wallah
Wallah^ Oregon.
Miles.
St. Paul's to
17i. Small Brook. — The wood, water, and grass are abundant
as far as the ' ' Bois des Sioux" River.
20i. Cow Creek. — Tliis stream is crossed on a bridge.
23i. Small Lake. — North of the road. The road passes over
a rolling prairie, and crosses Elk River on a bridge.
17. Near Sauk Rapids. — The road crosses Elk River twice
on bridges ; Mississippi River near.
18. Russel's. — Ferry across the Mississippi River, then follow
the Red River trail. Camp is on a cold spring brook.
6. Cold Spring Brook. — Cross Sauk River, 300 feet wide, 41-
feet deep.
19^. Lake Henry. — Road good.
18f . Lightning Lake. — Cross Cow River in a ferry-boat ; wa-
ter 42- feet deep.
17i. Lake. — One mile from Red River trail. Pass White
Bean Lake.
^\. Pike Lake. — Pass the South Branch of the Chippeway
River. Road runs over rolling prairie, and crosses a
small branch.
19i. Small Lake. — Cross Chippeway River in a boat. Road
passes numerous lakes and the best grass.
9 1. Small Lake. — Road passes rolling prairies, and crosses
Rabbit River.
27. "Bois des Sioux" River. — Cross Bois des Sioux Prairie ;
rolling ground.
11. Wild Rice River.— Cross "Bois des Sioux" River, 70 feet
wide and 4 to 7 feet deep, muddy bottom and banks.
Wood, water, and grass at all camps between this and
Maple River.
4I-. Small Creek.— Cross Wild Rice River on a bridge.
26j. Sheyene River. — Smooth prairie road.
16^. Maple River.— Cross Sheyene River on a bridge, and sev-
eral small branches.
20. Small Creek. — Smooth road; no wood.
20. Pond. — Wet and marshy ; numerous ponds in sight ; no
wood.
15. Pond. — No wood ; approaching Sheyene River.
13i-. Sheyene River. — Prairie more rolling ; camp in the river
bottom. Wood, water, and grass abundant.
ST. Paul's to fokt wallah wallah. 319
7. Slough. — Cross Slieyene River, 50 feet wide, 3^- feet deep.
No wood.
10. Lake. — Rolling prairie, with many marshes. "Wood, wa-
ter, and grass.
101^. Pond. — Low, wet prairie; no wood ; plenty of grass and
water.
18ir. Marsh. — Smooth prairie, generally dry.
20. "Riviere a Jaques." — Smooth prairie, with marshes.
Road crosses the river several times. Wood, water, and
grass.
21^. Pond. — Hilly and marshy prairie, with small ponds, and
no wood.
12. Small Branch. — Marshy prairie, filled with ponds, with a
thin, short grass, and no wood.
19f. Lake. — On a high knoll. Road crosses the South Fork
of Sheyene River ; good crossing ; thence rolling prai-
rie, passing "Balto de Morale," also a narrow lake 4^
miles long.
161. Pond. — Marshy prairie, ponds, and knolls ; cross a small
branch at 7f miles. No wood.
17i^. Pond. — Rolling prairie. Cross Wintering River, a deep,
miuddy stream 100 feet wide, also marshy prairies and
ponds. No wood.
16. Small Branch. — Tributary of Mouse River. Road skirts
the valley of Mouse River, crossing the ravines near
their heads.
151. Pond. — Undulating prairie with occasional marshes ; the
road then turns up the high ridge called "Grand Co-
teau." No wood.
201^. Lake. — Hilly road approaching Grand Coteau. No
wood.
20. Lake. — Rolling prairie; smooth, good road; no wood.
ISj. Pond. — Road passes Grand Coteau at 11 miles, and nms
between two lakes. No wood, but plenty of " bois de
vache" for fuel.
19^. Branch of White Earth River. — Country rolling and hilly.
Road passes wood at eight miles from camp.
23i. Pond. — For two miles the road passes over a low, flat
country, after which the country is hilly. No wood.
23^. Pond. — Rolling and hilly country, with rocky knobs. At
18 miles cross branch of Muddy Creek 15 feet wide.
Wood in ravines near this stream. No wood at camp.
20. Pond. — Rolling country. At 11 miles there is water in
Miles.
a ravine. To the left there is more water, but the
country is rough. No wood.
IQi. Fort Union. — Koad descends a hill to the fort; before
this it passes over high, firm prairie. Good grass near
in the hills.
Gk' Pond. — No wood; good grass.
6. Little Muddy Kiver. — Good camp.
15i. Creek. — Two good camps between this and the last.
Wood, water, and grass.
10. Big Muddy Kiver. — Drift-wood for fuel.
11. Marsh near Missouri. — Good camp.
18. Poplar River. — Good camp. One or two good camps be-
tween this and the last camp.
23i. Creek near Missouri. — Good camp.
15. Slough near Missouri. — Good camp.
171. Milk River. — One good camp between this and the last
camp.
13i. Milk River. — Several good camps passed.
17^^. Milk River. — Good camp.
19i. Milk River. — Several good camps passed.
171. Milk River. — At the crossing. The road follows a trail
on the bluffs, and descends again to the river.
7i. Lake. — No wood ; grass and water plenty.
12i. Milk River. — Second crossing. Good camp.
12. Milk River. — Good camp.
15i. Milk River. — Good camps between this and the last camp.
lOf. Milk River. — Good camp.
20. Milk River. — Good camp.
16. Milk River. — Good camp.
18. Milk River. — At the third crossing. — Good camp.
7i. Branch of Milk River. — Good camp.
17i. Branch of Milk River. — Several good camps between
this and the last camp.
6. Branch of Milk River. — Good camp.
19i. Prairie Spring. — No wood ; water and grass plenty.
13f . Teton River. — Road crosses " Marias River."
8f . Teton River, at Fort Benton. — A trading-post.
2i. Small Creek. — Good wood, water, and grass.
181. Missouri River. — Good camp.
20l. Missouri River. — Above the falls. Road much broken
into ravines. "Wood, water, and grass.
16f . Missouri River. — Road crosses first tributary above Fort
Benton at ten miles.
ST. Paul's to fokt wallah avallah. 321
Miles.
17. Missouri River. — The road becomes very bad after four-
teen miles, but is better on the north side of the Mis-
souri.
6. Missouri River. — The road is exceedingly rough and
broken ; crosses the river. — Good wood, water, and
grass.
11. Tributary of the Missouri. — The most difficult part of the
road is passed, but the country is still hilly.
18 J. Tributary of the Missouri. — The road follows up the last-
mentioned stream to near its head. Good camps.
15. Near the summit of Little Blackfoot Pass, on a broad In-
dian trail ; excellent road.
llf. Little Blackfoot River. — Road crosses the summit of the
Rocky Mountains. Good road for wagons, with many
camping-places.
17^. Little Blackfoot River. — Road good, descending along
the river. Near the camp a large fork comes in.
281^. Little Blackfoot River. — Good road, which follows the
broad, open valley for 14 miles. Good camps.
19 J. Little Blackfoot River. — The valley contracts so that
wagons will be forced to take the bed of the river in
some places. The river is fordable, and the trail crosses
it five times during the day.
22^. Blackfoot River, — Sixteen miles from the last camp
" Blackfoot" and "Hell Gate" Rivers enter, and about
one mile of this distance is impassable for wagons ;
they would have to cross the river, which is fordable.
Good camps.
27^^. Fort Owen. — Road runs up the St. Mary's River to Fort
Owen over a broad, good trail in the valley.
40. St. Mary's River. — The south Nez Perces trail leaves the
main trail, which ascends the St. Mary's Valley to the
Forks, and follows the southwest fork to its source.
To the Forks the valley of the St. Mary's is open, and
admits wagons.
24. Southwest Fork of St. Mary's River.— The road follows
a narrow trail, crossing the river frequently, and is not
passable for wagons. The valley is narrow, and shut
in by hills.
5^. Kooskooskia River, — Road leaves the St. Mary's River,
passing over a high ridge to the Kooskooskia River.
10. Branch. — Road runs over wooded hills.
14, Creek, — Road runs over wooded hillb.
X
Miles.
9. Small Creek, — This is the best camp between the St.
Mary's River and the Nez Perces country.
15. Small Creek. — Road passes over Avooded hills.
- 9. Small Branch. — Road passes over wooded hills, is very
rough and difficult. Poor camp.
14. Small Creek. — Ten miles from last camp the road passes
a high divide, ascending rapidly, though not difficult.
Good grass on the summit, but no water.
13. Small Creek. — Good camp where the trail emerges from
the woods on to the high plateau.
7. Clear Water River. — Large tributary. Road runs over
high table-laud, and descends to the valley of the river.
43. Lapwai River. — The road folloAvs a broad trail down the
river six miles, when it leaves the river bottom and as-
cends the plateau, which extends to Craig's house, on
the Lapwai, fifteen miles from the river.
23. Tributary Snake River. — The trail runs over high ground
from Craig's to Lapwai River, 15 miles. This river is
450 feet wide. No wood. Indians are generally found
here, who feriy over travelers. The trail follows Snake
River for several miles.
26i. Tchannon River. — The trail passes 5^ miles up the bot-
tom of a small creek ; then runs over a steep hill to
another small creek, 8 miles ; then along the valley of
this stream 10|^ miles ; thence over a high hill to camp
on Tchannon River, 3 miles.
lli^. Touchet River. — The trail crosses the Tchannon River,
and ascends to a high plain, which continues to camp.
32^^. Touchet River. — Road follows a good trail along the val-
ley, where good camps are found any where, with wood,
water, and grass.
19^. Fort Wallah Wallah.— Leaving Touchet River, the trail
passes over again to the plains, when there is neither
wood, Avater, or grass to Fort Wallah Wallah.
Total distance from St. Paul's to Fort Union 7121^ miles.
" " Fort Union to Fort Benton.... 377i "
" " Fort Benton to Fort Owen.... 255 ''
" " Fort Owen to Fort Wallah
Wallah 3401 "
Total distance from St. Paul's, Min., to Fort Wal
lah Wallah, Oregon 1685* "
ALBUQUERQUE TO THE COLORADO. 323
XIX. — Lieutenant E. F. Beale's route from Albu-
querque to the Colorado River.
[Distances in miles and hundredths of a mile.]
Miles.
Albuquerque to
2.10. Atrisco. — Wood, water, and grass.
20.63. Rio Puerco, — Water in pools; wood and grass.
19.41. Near Puta. — Abundance of wood, water, and grass.
13.12. Covera. — Water and grass abundant; wood scarce.
13.06. Hay Camp. — Wood, water, and grass plenty.
25.37. Agua Frio. — Wood, water, and grass plenty.
16.28. Inscription Rock. — Small spring; grass and wood
plenty.
16.32. Ojo del Pescado.— Water and grass plenty; wood for
camp.
15.13. Zuni. — Grass and water plenty; wood scarce.
6.19. Indian Well. — Wood, water, and grass.
14.43. No. 1. — Wood and grass ; no water.
11.93. Jacob's Well. — Wood, water, and grass.
6.57. No. 2, Navajo Spring. — Wood, water, and grass.
13.62. Noon Halt. — Water by digging; grass and wood
scarce.
6.13. No. 3.— Grass abundant.
7.75. Noon Halt. — Wood, water, and grass abundant.
7.25. No. 4. — Water in holes; grass and fuel plenty.
3.60. Three Lakes. — Wood, water, and grass.
1.75. Crossing Puerco. — Wood, water, and grass abundant as
far as Leroux Spring.
11.25. No. 5.
18.50. No. 6.
10.17. No. 7.
13.25. No. 8.
19.35. Canon Diablo.
14.75. No. 10.
13.50. Near Cosnino Caves.
17.32. San Francisco Spring.
9.06. Leroux Spring.
8.48. No. 13. — Wood and grass, but no water.
11.13. Breckenridge Spring.— Wood, water, and grass abund-
ant.
8.07. No. 14. — Wood, water, and grass abundant.
6.50. Cedar Spring. — Wood, water, and grass abundant.
10.50. No. 15. — Wood, water, and grass abundant.
324 ALBUQUEKQUE TO SAN PEDKO.
Miles.
10.75. Alexander's Canon. — Wood and grass plenty; not
much water.
8.05. Smith's Spring. — "Wood, water, and grass abundant.
8.75. Pass Dornin. — Wood and grass abundant ; no water.
13.50. No. 19. — Wood and grass abundant; no water.
16.35. No. 20. — Water two miles from camp ; wood and grass
plenty.
4.06. Hemphill's Spring. — Wood, water, and grass abundant.
21.25. No. 21. — Wood, water, and grass abundant.
9.75. No. 22. — Wood and grass; spring one mile distant.
5.50. No. 23. — Wood and grass plenty; no water.
8.45. No. 24. — Wood and grass; spring three miles off.
16.75. No. 25. — Wood and grass ; no water.
7.25. Sabadras Spring. — Wood, water, and grass.
13,25. No. 26. — Wood; no grass or water.
8.75. Spring. — Wood, water, and grass.
1.25. No. 27. — Wood, water, and grass.
3.17. No. 28. — Wood, water, and grass.
1.25. No. 29. — Wood, water, and grass.
3.11. No. 30. — Wood, water, and grass.
3.25. No. 31. — East bank of Colorado River; wood.
No. 32. — West bank ; water and grass abundant.
XX. — Captain Whipple's Route from Albuquer-
que^ N'eio Mexico^ to San Pedro^ California.
[Distances in miles and hundredths of a mile.]
Miles.
Albuquerque to
0.88. Atrisco. — Permanent running water.
12.16. Isleta. — Permanent running water.
22.78. Rio Puerco. — Water in holes. ^
18.30. Rio Rita. — Permanent running water.
13.77. Covera.— " "
14.66. Hay Camp.— "
17.71. Sierra Madre. — No water
8.06
17.49
Agua Frio. — Permanent running water.
xi.-c./. Inscription Rock. — El Moro. Permanent springs.
14.23. Ojo del Pescado. — Permanent springs.
11.74. Zuni. — Permanent running water.
8.83. Arch Spring. — Permanent spring.
'I
ilill'l'
ALBUQUERQUE TO SAN PEDrwO.
327
Miles.
10.77.
10.69.
7.0-t.
12.13.
10.87.
11.59.
11.99.
14.42.
8.63.
4.94.
1.35.
4.90.
10.99.
15.88.
4.44.
1.51.
29.72.
11.81.
10.46.
8.23.
6.17.
8.54.
9.77.
9.89.
13.26.
3.89.
13.52.
0.87.
7.45.
8.69.
5.71.
6.67.
5.98.
5.80.
12.16.
0.30.
11.29.
9.64.
7.97.
11.60.
12.83.
9.21.
— No water.
Jacob's Well. — Permanent water-hole.
Navajo Spring. — Permanent springs.
Willow Creek. — Rio de la Jara. Water in holes.
Rio Puerco of the West. — Water in holes.
Lithodendron Creek. — Permanent running water.
Colorado Chiquito. — "
Colinino Caves. — Permanent water-holes.
Near San Francisco Spring. — No water ; water 4 miles
from camp.
Leroux's Spring. — Permanent water.
— No water.
— No water.
New Year's Spring. — Permanent spring.
Lava Creek. — Water in hole.
Cedar Creek. — Water in holes.
Partridge Creek. — Water in holes.
Picacho Creek. — "
— No water.
Turkey Creek. — Permanent running water.
Pueblo Creek.— " "
" — " water in holes.
Canon Creek. -
-Water in holes.
Cactus Pass. — Permanent running water.
White Cliff Creek. — Permanent running water.
Big Horn Springs. — Permanent spring.
MoiTth of Canon Creek. — Permanent running water.
" Big Sandy" Creek.—
328
ALBUQUEKQUE TO SAN PEDKO.
Miles.
4.35.
6.21.
4.08.
CIO.
5.56.
6.44.
6.52.
8.97.
6.85.
7.22.
3.90.
8.69.
4.33.
4.74.
5.02.
- 9.06.
11.39.
29.87.
1.02.
9.46.
CAMOa OX liUX. AVnj.IAMS'S FORK.
"Big Sandy" Creek. — Pemtiancnt running water.
Month of Big Sandy Creek. — Permanent running wa-
ter as far as the Colorado River.
Rio Santa Maria.
Mouth of Rio Santa Maria.
On Colorado River.
Mojave Villages.
Crossing of the Colorado River.
ALBUQUERQUE TO SAN PEDRO.
329
ABTILLEKY PE.\K.
Miles,
0.33.
2.78.
20.71.
9.00.
13.00.
7.00.
19.00.
On Colorado Eiver.
On Colorado River. , ^ ,
—The road, on leaving the Colorado, runs up
"over a gravelly ridge to a barren niesa, and descends
the bed of the Mojave 4 or 5 miles above its mouth,
and at 9t miles it passes springs near the point where
the road turns around the western base of a mount-
ain. There is no water at the camp, but grass in an
arroya. j x
Pai-Ute Creek.— This is a fine stream, with good water
and grass. -, , j- •
Arroyo.— Grass and wood ; water is found by digging.
Fine Spring.— Good water and grass. The wagon-
road passes around the hills, but an Indian trail leads
through the ravine where the sirring is.
Marl Spring.— This is a small but constant spring ; ex-
cellent grass, and greasewood for fuel.
330 ALBUQUERQUE TO SAN PEDRO.
Miles.
30.00. Lake. — The road follows a ridge for some distance,
then descends to an arroyo, and in a few miles
emerges into a sandy plain, where there is the dry
bed of a lake, which is firm, and makes a smooth,
good road. The camp is at some marshy pools of
water. Good grass, and greasewood for fuel.
12.00. Mojave River. — Road passes through a valley of drifted
sand, and at the camp strikes the river, which is here
a beautiful stream of fresh water, 10 to 12 feet wide
and a foot deep, with a hard, gravelly bottom. Grass
in the hills near.
13.00. Mojave River. — The road ascends the river, the banks
of which are covered with fine grass and mesquite
wood. Good camps along here.
20.00. Mojave River. — The road leads up the river for a short
distance, when it turns into an arroyo, and ascends to
a low mesa, and continues along the border of alevel
prairie covered with fine bunch-grass. It then en-
ters the river bottom again, which is here several
miles wide, and well wooded. Grass good.
20.00. Mojave River. — Six miles from camp the road strikes
the Mormon road, and crosses the stream near a
Mormon camping-place. The trail runs along the
river, which gets larger and has more timber on its
banks as it is ascended. Good grass, wood, and
water.
22.00. Mojave River. — A short distance from camp the valley
contracts, but the road is good. It leaves the valley
and crosses a gravelly ridge, but enters it again.
Good gi-ass, wood, and water.
15.00. Mojave River. — Road continues along the right bank
of the river, in a southwest course, and crosses the
river at camp. Good wood, water, and grass.
29.50. Cajon Creek. — The road leaves the river at the cross-
ing, and runs toward a break in the San Bernardino
Mountains ; it ascends a sharp hill and enters a ce-
dar thicket ; it then ascends to the summit of the
Cajon Pass; thence over a spur of the mountains
into an arroyo or creek in a ravine ; thence along
the dry channel of the Cajon Creek for two miles,
where the water begins to run, and from thence the
road is rough to camp.
7.00. Cajon Creek. — Road continues along the creek to
FOET YUMA TO BENICIA.
331
^^'' camp, and is rough. Wood, water, and grass at
camp. -
20 00 Cocamonga's Ranch.— On a pretty stream of running
" ' water. The road runs for six miles down the Cajou
Creek, along its steep and rocky bed. It is here a
good-sized stream. Captain Whipple's road here
leaves the San Bernardino road, and turns to the west
along the base of the mountains toward Los Angeles ;
it then crosses a prairie and strikes the ranch of Co-
camonga. Wood, water, and grass.
24 00 Town of El Monte.— The road runs upon the northern
border of a basin which is watered by many small
streams, and is settled. The camp is on the pretty
stream of San Gabriel, where there is a good camp-
ing-place. •, ,T- • C
14 25. City of Los Angeles.— The road passes the Mission of
San Gabriel, then enters a ravine among hills and
broken ground; it then descends and crosses the
river which waters the valley, and enters the city.
There is a good camp upon the point of a ridge on
the left bank of the river.
23.00. San Pedro.— Good camp.
XXI —Fro7n Fort Yuma to Benicia, California.
From Lieutenant R. S. Williamson's Report.
[Distances in miles and hundredths of a mile.]
Fort Yuma, on Rio Colorado, to
6.51. Pilot Knob.
5.06. Algodones.
11.18. Cook's Wells.
21.11. Alamo Mocho.
14.16. Little Laguna.
l'-92' !o?k^of Ro;d.-The left-hand road leads to San Die-
"■ ■ go, 139.94 miles, the right-hand to San Francisco.
17.62. Salt Creek.
28.94. Water in the Desert.— Below point of rocks.
12.60. Cohuilla Village.
15.82. Deep Well.
332 FORT YUMA TO BENICIA.
Mile.=i.
10.62. Hot Spring.
7.36. East base of San Gorgonio Pass
18.29, Summit of Pass.
27.10. San Bernardino. — Mormon town.
17.60. Sycamore Grove.
14.00. Qui-qual-mun-go Ranch.
26.60. San Gabriel River. — At crossing.
G.70. Mission of San Gabriel.
9.00. Los Angeles.
10.20. Cahuengo Ranch. — At the crossing of a branch of Los
Angeles River.
10. 70. Mission of San Fernando.
5.90. Summit of San Fernando Pass.
7.15. Santa Clara River, southeast fork.
15.80. Summit of Coast Range. — In San Francisquito Pass.
18.00. Eastern base of Sierra Nevada.
6.70. Summit of Tajon Pass.
13. 10. Depot Camp in the Tajon.
31.00. Kern River. — At the crossing.
10.80. De'pot Camp on Pose Creek, or "0-co-ya."
24.30. White Creek.
14.90. More's Creek.
5.10. Tule' River.
22.00. Deep Creek. — Deep Creek is the first of four creeks,
crossed by the wagon-road, into which the " Pi-pi-
yu-na" divides itself after emerging from the Sierra.
These streams are commonly known as the "Four
Creeks."
0.29. Cameron Creek. — The second of the "Four Creeks."
3.30. Kah-wee-ya River. — The third and principal one of the
"Four Creeks."
0. 89. St. John's Creek.— The last of the "Four Creeks." At
the crossing.
28.13. Pool's Ferry.— On King's River.
12.32. Slough of King's River.
25.73. Fort Miller.— On San Joaquin River, in the foot-hills
of the Sierra Nevada.
9.40. Cottonwood Creek.
7.72. Fresno River.
12.15. Chowchilla River. — Sometimes knoAvn as "Big Mari-
posa."
10.39. Mariposa River.
6.03. Bear Creek.
FOKT BEIDGER TO CAMP FLOYD. 333
Miles.
18.33. Merced River.
18.87. Davis's Feny. — Tuolumne River.
28.85. Grayson. — A ferry on the San Joaquin River.
27.54:. Elk Horn. — The distance is by the wagon-road, and is
circuitous.
6.90. Summit of Livermore Pass.
7.20. Egress from Livermore Pass.
40.42. Martinez. — On the Straits of Carquives, opposite Be-
nicia, California.
Total distance from Fort Yimia to Benicia, 800.45 miles.
XXII. — A new route fro7n Fort Bridger to Camp
Floyd^ opened by Captain J. H. Siimpson, U.S.A.,
in 1858.
Miles.
Fort Bridger to
6. Branch of Black's Fork. — Wood, water, and grass.
7i. Cedar on Bluffs of Muddy, — Grass and wood all the way
up the ravine from the Muddy, and water at intervals.
5|. Last water in ravine after leaving the Muddy. — Wood,
water, and grass.
51 . East Branch of Sulphur Creek. — Wood, water, and grass.
Junction of Fort Supply road.
\. Middle Branch of Sulphur Creek. — Sage, water, and
grass.
3. West Branch of Sulphur Creek. — Willow, water, and
grass ; spring a mile below.
h\. East Branch of Bear River. — Wood, water, and grass.
i. Middle Branch of Bear River. — Wood, water, and grass.
2t. Main Branch of Bear River. — Wood, water, and grass.
9i. First Camp on White Clay Creek. — Wood, water, and
grass.
6i. White Clay Creek. — Wood, water, and grass.
15. White Clay Creek. — Good camps all along the valley of
White Clay Creek,
f . Commencement of Canon. — Wood, water, and grass.
\. White Clay Creek. — Good camps all along the valley of
White Clay Creek to the end of the lower cafion.
12. Weber River. — Wood, water, and grass.
334 FORT THOENE TO FOKT YUMA.
Miles.
6. Parley's Park Road. — Wood, water, and grass. Pass
over the divide.
3|. Silver Creek. — Willows, water, and grass.
6. Timpanogos Creek. — Wood, water, and grass. Cross
over the divide.
1. Commencement of Canon. — Wood, water, and grass.
2i^. Cascade in Canon. — Good camps at short intervals all
along Timpanogos Canon.
4i. Mouth of Canon. — Wood and water.
6i. Battle Creek Settlement. — Purchase forage.
3i. American Fork Settlement. — Purchase forage.
3. Lehi (town). — Purchase forage. Grass near.
2i. Bridge over Jordan. — Grass and water ; wood in the hills
li miles distant.
14. Camp Floyd. — Wood, water, and grass.
Total distance from Fort Bridger to Camp Floyd, 155 miles.
Note. — Captain Simpson says this wagon -route is far supe-
rior to the old one in respect to grade, wood, water, and grass,
and in distance about the same.
XXIII. — I^roni Fort Thorne^ Neio Mexico^ to Fort
Yuma, California.
[Distances in miles and hundredths of a mile.]
Miles.
Fort Thorne, N. M., to
14.30. Water Holes. — One mile west of hole in rock. Water
uncertain ; no wood.
9. 19. Mule Creek. — Water at all seasons a little up the creek ;
wood plenty.
12.00. Cook's Spring. — Water sufficient for camping; mes-
quite bushes on the hills.
19.50. Rio Mimbres. — Water and wood abundant.
16.30. Ojo de la Vaca. — Water and wood.
12.00. Spring. — Constant small streams two miles up the
canon ; water at the road uncertain.
44.40. Rancho. — Pond of brackish water one mile to the right,
four miles before reaching here.
13.90. Rio St. Simon. — Constant water a few miles up, and
mesquite wood.
rOKT THOENE TO FORT YUMA. 335
Miles.
18.40. Pass in the Mountains. — Water on the left about two
miles after entering the Pass.
6.40. Arroya. — Wood one mile up; water uncertain; small
stream crossing the road H miles from last camp,
26.30. Nugent's Spring. — Large spring. — Excellent water one
mile south, at Playa St. Domingo.
17.20. Caiion. — To the left of the road. Water 1^ miles up
the canon, two miles from the road.
17.00. Rio San Pedro. — Water and wood abundant.
16.30. San Pedro. — Water abundant ; wood distant.
20.80. Cienequilla. — Water and wood abundant.
7.30. Along Cienequilla. — Water and wood abundant ; road
rough.
21.80. Mission of San Xavier. — Large mesquite, and water
plenty in Santa Cruz River.
8.00. Tucson. — Village on Santa Cruz River. Tucson is the
last green spot on the Santa Cruz River. The best
camping-ground is two miles beyond the village,
where the valley widens, and good grass and w^ater
are abundant.
7.20. Mud Holes. — The road passes over arroyas, but is
rather level.
65.00. Agua Hermal. — Road passes over a desert section, and
is hard and level. Water is found in most seasons,
except in early summer, in natural reservoirs on an
isolated mountain about midway, called "Picapo;"
poor water and tall, coarse grass at the mud-holes.
Road here strikes the Rio Gila.
15.10. Los Pimos. — Road follows the river bottom. Lagoon
of bad water near camp. Grass good ; plenty of Cot-
tonwood and mesquite.
13.20. Los Maricopas. — Road takes the river bottom, and
passes through cultivated fields ; soil and grass good.
The Indian village is on a gravelly hill. The road
is good.
40.00. El Tegotal. — The road leaves the river and crosses the
desert. No water between this and the last camp at
the Maricopas' village. Road is good. The calita
abounds here, and the mules are fond of it.
10.50. Pega del Rio. — Road runs in the river bottom, and is
level.
Rincon de Vega. — Road runs in the river bottom, and
is level. Good grass.
336 LARAMIE CROSSING TO FORT BRIDGER.
Miles.
10.50. Mai Pais. — Road continues near the river, but over
low gravel-hills and through a short canon of deep
sand.
9.50. Mil Flores. — Pass over a very steep precipice to an ele-
vated plateau, thence over gravel-hills 4^ miles to
camp, whei'e there is excellent grass and wood.
13.70. Santado. — Road keeps the river bottom until within
four miles of camp, when it turns over the plateau.
Good grass.
16.70. Las Lonas. — Road follows the river bottom. ' Scattered
bunch-grass on the hills.
11.40. Vegas. — Road follows along the river bottom. Grass
poor.
16.80. Metate. — Road runs along at the foot of a nigged
mountain. Excellent grass at the camp.
14.70. El Horral. — Road ascends to the plateau, which it fol-
lows for seven miles over a level country, then de-
scends over gravelly hills to the river. Camp on the
river bank near the desert. Wood plenty.
20.80. Los Algodones. — Road runs along at the foot of the
hills or spurs of the desert ; small rugged hills, vege-
tation dwarf mesquit, cacti, etc. Good grass at
camp.
7.40. Fort Yuma, on the Rio Colorado.
Total distance from Port Thorne, N. M., to Fort Yuma,
571 miles.
XXiy. — Lieutenant Bryan's Route from the
Laramie Crossing of the South Platte to Fort
Bridger^ via Bridger''s Pass.
Miles.
Laramie Crossing to
14. Bryan's Crossing. — Road runs on the south side of the
Platte. Good grass and water.
12. First Crossing of Pole Creek. — Pole Creek is a rapid
stream, sandy bed, 15 feet wide, and two feet deep.
Good grass on the creek, and wood three miles off on
the blufl'^.
LAEAMIE CROSSING TO FOET BEIDGER. 337
Miles.
37. Second Crossing of Pole Creek. — Eoad runs along the
creek. Good grass and good camps at any point.
Good road.
17i. Third Crossing of Pole Creek. — Good camp. Wood on
the bluffs.
20^-. Fourth Crossing of Pole Creek. — Creek dry for three
miles. Good grass.
201^. Bluffs covered with dead pines. — Creek is crossed several
times. Road runs over a rough, broken country.
Good grass.
14:^. Road from Fort Laramie to New Mexico. — Road rather
rough. The valley opens out into a wide plain. Plen-
ty of grass.
lOi^. On Pole Creek. — Good road ; good camp.
20. On Pole Creek. — Road crosses several ravines, most of
which can be avoided by keeping on the bluffs ; the val-
ley is narrow. Grass not very good.
171^. Cheyenne Pass. — Road passes over a rolling country.
Good grass ; willows for fuel. Military post established
here.
14^. Summit of Black Hills. — Source of Pole Creek. Grass
poor.
lOi. East Fork of Laramie River. — Good camp.
16. West Fork of Laramie River. — Good camp. Cherokee
trail comes in here.
14. Cooper's Creek. — Wood and grass.
10^. East Fork of Medicine Bow Creek. — Wood and grass as
far as Pass Creek.
2h Small Creek.
6. Birch Creek.
5i. West Fork of Medicine Bow Creek.
2. Flint's Creek.
3. Elm Creek.
7. Rattlesnake Creek.
5. Pass Creek.
141". North Fork of the Platte. — Good road over high prairie.
Five miles before reaching the river the Cherokee trail
turns to the left, and crosses three miles above. Good
camps on the river,
3h First Crossing of Sage Creek. — Good road. Grass not
plenty.
10^. Second Crossing of Sage Creek. — Road runs through
Sage Creek Valley ; hilly, broken, and sterile country,
Y
338 LAKAMIE CEOSSING TO FOKT BKIDGEE.
Miles.
covered with sage-brush. Grass not abundant. Cher-
okee trail leaves three miles back.
4. Third Crossing of Sage Creek. — Road continues through
sage-brush. Grass gets better.
3. Fourth Crossing of Sage Creek. — Good grass, wood, and
water.
9. Bridger's Pass. — Eoad runs over a hilly country, crossing
several small branches, with a little grass upon their
banks ; country covered with sage.
3|-. Muddy Creek. — ^"The valley of the " Muddy" is- deep and
narrow at first, and afterward opens out. The cross-
ings of this creek were either bridged or paved by the
troops in 1858. But little grass in this valley.
20^. Near Muddy Creek. — Very little grass ; poor camp.
16J. Bridger's Fork of the Muddy Creek. — The road for thir-
teen miles runs over a rolling country, then over a
rough, broken country, Avith deep ravines. No water
in this fork in a dry season ; small springs of brackish
water near the crossing. Grass poor.
4. Small Spring. — Water bad; grass poor.
2^. Small Spring. — In the bluff. Water bad; grass poor.
1. Haystack. — Clay butte. Spring in the dry bed of the
creek. Bunch-grass.
5^-. Small Springs.— In blutfs on the right of the road. Grass
poor and water bad.
7i. Springs. — There is a fine spring at the foot of a steep hill
on the south side of the road. Very little grass ; rushes
on the creek.
3i. South Fork of Bitter Creek. — Good grass and water.
14i. On Bitter Creek. — Country hilly, and intersected with
deep ravines. South Fork is a fine stream of good
water.
16. Sulphur Springs. — Road very hilly, crossing many deep
ravines. Grass and sage plenty.
9. Bitter Creek Crossing. — No grass at the crossing. Wa-
ter bitter when the creek is down, but tolerable in high
water. Road rough, with numei'ous ravines.
18^. North Fork of Bitter Creek.— Cherokee trail enters near
the crossing. Road good, but little grass except in
spots. Sage for fuel.
4. Bluffs. — Springs of good water in the elevated bluffs on
the right of the road in the cottonwood groves. Grass
good and abundant at the base of the bluffs.
DENVER CITY TO EORT BRIDGEE. 339
Miles.
Hi. Green Eiver. — Koad is very rough and hilly, and winds
along the valley of the creek. Good camp on the river,
with plenty of wood and grass.
15f . Crossing of Black's Fork. — Road runs up through Eabbit
Hollow, which is steep and sandy ; it then passes over
rolling prairie to Black's Fork. Bunch-grass on the
hills, and good camp at the crossing.
llj. Fort Laramie Road. — Rolling country; good road through
sage bushes. Good camps along the creek.
5|. Ham's Fork. — Good camp on either side of the creek.
United States bridge here ; good road,
f. Black's Fork Crossing. — Good ford except in high water,
when the right-hand road on the north bank of the
creek is generally traveled.
lih Fourth Crossing of Black's Fork. — Good road; fine
camp ; plenty of wood, water, and grass.
2|. Fifth Crossing of Black's Fork. — Good camp ; good road.
2f. Smith's Fork. — Good camp ; good road.
11 J. FortBridger. — Good camp near; good road.
Total distance from the Laramie Crossing of the South
Platte to Fort Bridger, 520^ miles. By the Fort Lar-
amie road the distance is 569 miles.
XXV. — Wa gon- route fr 0771 Denver City^ at the
Mouth of Cherry Creek^ to Fort Bridger^ Utah.
Miles.
Denver City to
5. Vasquez Fork. — Good road and fine camp.
ld\. Thompson's Fork. — Road crosses three creeks about five
miles apart, is good, and the camp is well supplied with
water and grass, but wood is scarce.
IGs^. Bent's Fork. — Road crosses two streams about five miles
apart ; no wood on the first. Good camp.
26. Cashe la Poudre River. — Excellent road crossing two
streams at ten and twenty-three miles from the last
camp ; good camps on both. Cashe la Poudre is a
fine large stream which issues from the mountains near
the road, and is difficult to cross in high water. It has
340 DENVER CITY TO FOKT BRIDGEK.
Miles.
a firm bottom. Good camps along this stream, with
plenty of wood and grass.
16. Beaver Creek. — Eoad turns to the left and enters the
hills, ascending very gradually between two lines of
bluffs, and is good except in Avet weather. Good camp.
19. Small Branch. — Road crosses Beaver Creek three times,
affording good camps. Road is hilly, but not veiy
rough, passing for a portion of the distance through a
timbered region. Elk and mountain sheep are abund-
ant in this section. The camp is near the summit of
the divide. Grass short.
17?. Tributary of Laramie River. — Good road on the divide.
Grass and water plenty, but wood not abundant.
182^. Tributary of Laramie River. — Road passes Laramie Fork
thi'ee miles from the last camp. Good camp.
21. Tributaiy of Laramie River. — Road crosses a small creek
at 14 miles from last camp. Fine camp.
17. Medicine Bow Creek. — At twelve miles the road crosses
Sulphur Spring Creek, and at the West Fork of the
Laramie Lieutenant Bryan's road enters. At ten miles
from the last camp there are two roads — one, Bryan's,
leading north of the Medicine Bow Butte, and the other
to the south of it. The former is the best. Good camp.
171^. Prairie Creek. — Fine camp. A portion of the road is
very rough. It crosses several small branches upon
which good camps may be had. Fine game section,
with beax-, elk, etc., in great abundance.
12 ?. North Fork of the Platte. — Excellent camp. Leave Bry-
an's road four miles back, taking the left, which is alto-
gether the best of the two. The crossing of the Platte
is good except in high water, when it is very rapid. A
flat-boat was left here bv Colonel Loring's command in
1858.
12|-. Clear Creek. — Sage for fuel; grass short.
23. Dry Creek. — Road leaves Bryan's trail to Bridger's Pass,
and bears to the right, passing over a smooth country
covered with sage and poorly watered ; passes a pond
of milky water at thirteen miles. There is water in
Dry Creek except in a veiy dry season. Two miles
from the creek, on the old trail, there is a fine spring
on the left of the road, which runs down into the road,
and here is the best grass after leaving the Platte, with
plenty of fuel.
DENVER CITY TO FORT BRIDGER. 341
10 2^.' Muddy Creek.— Eoad leaves the old Cherokee trailat
Dry Creek, and bears to the left. Good camp for a
limited number of animals ; fine grass along near the
bank of the creek. Bad crossing. Buffalo seen here.
19^^. Lake. — Old trail enters near this camp. Road passes a
brackish spring four miles back. The road may be
shortened by bearing to the left and skirting the hills
for about six miles before reaching the lake. The wa-
ter in the lake is not good, but drinkable, and will be
abundant except in the very dryest part of the summer.
Grass is good on the hills. The road from Dry Creek
is shorter than the old road by 30 miles.
24i. Red Lakes.— Road is good, but traverses a very dry and
sterile region. The water is not good in the lakes, but
drinkable, and may go dry in midsummer. Grass tol-
erable.
22. Seminoes Spring.— After passing the flats at the Red
Lakes the road is smooth and good, and there is a good
camp at Seminoes Spring.
12i Bitter Creek.— New road to the left, cutting off ten or
twelve miles. Good camp ; water a little saline, but
drinkable.
25. Sulphur Spring. — Road runs along the valley of Bitter
Creek, Avhere there is but little grass until reaching
camp. Animals should be driven across the creek into
the hills, where the best grass is found.
17. Green River. —Road leaves Bitter Creek at Sulphur
Spring, and passes near some high bluffs, where there
are small springs and good grass. Excellent camp at
Green River. From here the road runs over the same
track as Bryan's road to Fort Bridger. From all the
information I have been able to obtain regarding Lieu-
tenant Bryan's road from Sage Creek through Bridg-
er's Pass, and thence down the Muddy Creek, I am in-
clined to believe that the road we traveled is much the
best. It is said that Lieutenant Bryan's route from
Bridger's Pass to Green River has a scarcity of grass.
The water is brackish, and the supply limited, and
may fail altogether in a dry season. The road passes
through deep valleys and canons, crossing muddy creeks
and deep ravines. The creeks have been bridged and
the ravines cut down so as to form a practicable road ;
but freshets will probably occur in the spring, which
342 NEBEASKA CITY TO FOET KEAENEY.
will destroy a great deal of the work, and may render
the road impassable. — Lieutenant Duane's Notes.
The other road is for the greater part of the distance
smooth, and has a sufficiency of grass in places, but the
water may become scarce in a very dry season.
XXYT. — JFrom Nebraska City., on the Missouri., to
Fort Kearney.
Nebraska City, on the Missouri River, is a point from whence
a large amount of the supplies for the army in Utah are sent,
and one of the contractors, Mr. Alexander Majors, speaks of
this route in the following terms: "The military road from
Fort Leavenworth crosses very many tributaries of the Kansas
River, the Soldier, the Grasshopper, etc., etc., which are at all
times difficult of passage. There are no bridges, or but few,
and those of but little service. From Nebraska City to Fort
Kearney, which is a fixed point for the junction of all roads
passing up the Platte, we have but one stream of any moment
to cross. That one is Salt Creek, a stream which is now paved
at a shallow ford with solid rock.
"There is no other stream which, even in a high freshet,
would stop a train a single day. Again, upon this route we
have an abundance of good grazing every foot of the way to
Fort Kearney. The route from Nebraska City is about 100
miles shorter to Fort Kearney than that from Fort Leavenworth,
the former being less than 200 miles and the latter about 300
miles."
From Nebraska City to Salt Creek is 40 miles.
" Salt Creek to Elm Creek is 60 "
" Elm Creek to Fort Kearney is 100 "
Upon the entire route there is an abundance of wood, water,
and grass, and camping-places frequent.
CAMP FLOYD TO FOET UNIO]S-. 343
XXVll.—J^rotn Camp Floyd, Utah, to Fort Un-
ion, New Mexico. By Colonel W. W. Loeing,
Miles.
Camp Floyd to
23. Goshen.— The road runs through Cedar Valley ; is level
and good for 11 miles, to where the road forks. The
left runs near the lake, and has good camps upon it.
Thence to a fine spring, where there is a good camp, is
3 miles. Grass continues good to the camp near Go-
shen. Wood, water, and grass abundant.
14. Salt Creek. — Road runs over a mountain in a direct
course to a fine spring branch, which runs into Salt
Creek at 3i miles, where is a good camp; thence
through a meadow to a small branch 3 miles, striking
the old Mormon road again opposite a mud fort, where
there is a fine spring and good camp ; thence into the
valley of Salt Creek, where there are good camps.
18. Pleasant Creek.— Near the last camp the road forks, one
running to Nephi, a small Mormon village, the other to
Salt Creek Caiion, which is the one to be taken. The
road runs up the canon 5 miles ; thence up its small
right-hand fork to a spring, 3 miles ; thence to camp.
Good camps can be found any where after crossing Salt
Creek, with abundance of wood, water, and grass.
191^. Willow Creek. — Road at Q\ miles passes a fine spring ;
half a mile farther is another spring, where the road
forks. Take the right through a meadow ; it is 3 or 4
miles shorter. To the crossing is 3 miles : thence to
the main road again 3 miles ; to the village of Ephraim
5 miles. Good camp.
12. Lediniquint Creek.— At 6 miles pass Manti ; thence to
Salt and Sulphur Springs is 3 miles. Good camp, with
a fine spring, wood, and grass.
15. Lediniquint Creek. — Road passes over a rugged country
for 4 miles, to a creek ; thence one mile it crosses an-
other creek ; thence 2\ miles up the creek, where there
is a good camp. The road improves, and for 8 or 9
miles camps can be found by leaving the creek a short
distance. The creek on which the camp is is muddy,
with narrow channel.
18. Onapah Creek, or Salt Creek.— Road is good over a bar-
ren country to the pointed red hills near the entrance
344 CAMP FLOYD TO FORT UNION.
Miles.
to Wasatch Pass, 7 miles. From the red hills cross
Salt Creek 3 times in 4 miles ; grass fair at 2d cross-
ing ; very good at 3d crossing, and a good camp. Road
rough for 3 miles after leading the creek. The road
then enters a fine valley, with plenty of blue and bunch
grass. Road is level to Avithin a mile of the camp.
Wood, water, and grass abundant at camp.
7i. Head of Branch of Salt Creek. — Road runs over a ridge
at 2 miles, thence one mile to a small branch. Grass
abimdant. Road runs along the branch 3 iniles; in
places very rough, with some sand ; ascends the entire
distance, and the camp is very elevated. Good spring
at camp.
5h Salt Creek. -^Road passes over a ridge 2k miles to a
spring. Good camp at this spring. Colonel Loring
worked the road at this place. It crosses the creek 6
times within the 5f miles. Good camp, with abund-
ance of wood, water, and grass.
Gk. Silver Creek. — Road traverses a rolling section, is good,
passes several springs where there are good camps, and
crosses several trails which lead from California to New
Mexico.
171^. Media Creek. — At two miles the road passes the dividing
ridge between the waters of Salt Lake and Green River ;
thence two miles' descent to Shipley Creek, where is a
good camp. Eor about a mile the road is rough, but
then descends into an open plain where the road is
good. The ground is rough about the camp, and cov-
ered with sage and greasewood. Two miles up the
creek, near the canon, is some grass, but it is not abund-
ant here.
19f. St. Raphael Creek. — Road passes a rolling section for 5
iniles ; thence li mile to Garamboyer Creek, where
there is a good camp ; thence, with the exception of a
short distance, the road is good to the Knobs, 9 miles,
when it is broken for 4^- miles. Good camp.
11|. San Matio Creek. — For 3 miles the road is over a rolling
section, with steep hills, to a creek, where is a good
camp ; thence, for 3 miles along the creek, soft soil
and heavy road ; thence 5 miles to another creek, some
grass, but not plenty ; thence to camp the road is rough
in places. Good camp.
14^. In the Hills. — Road runs over a rolling country 2i miles
CAMP FLOYD TO FORT UNION. 345
Miles.
to San Marcos, or Tanoje Creek, where there is good
grass and water, with sage. Two miles farther over a
gravelly road, then a good plain road for 9| miles to
camp. Good wood, water, and grass.
23. Spring. — Road for the first ten miles is rocky, when it
strikes a spring, where there is a good camp ; thence 2
miles to water in a tank, not permanent ; thence the
road is on a ridge for 6 miles, and is good ; thence 3
miles the road is sandy. The spring at camp is large,
with plenty of wood, but the grass is scarce. Down
the creek it is more abundant.
18. Green River. — For 5 miles the road is sandy; thence the
road is good for the remainder of the distance to camp,
where there is plenty of wood, water, and grass.
13. 13-Mile Spring. — Green River can be forded at ordinary
stages. Road runs among several arroyas for a few
miles, and is then straight and good to camp. Good
grass a mile to the east of camp.
An AiToya. — Road runs between two rocky buttes, and
strikes the Mormon trail, which leaves Green River at
the same place, but is very tortuous. Water not per-
manent here ; good grass three fourths of a mile from
camp.
20i. Cottonwood Creek. — Road passes over a broken country
to a water-hole, 9 miles ; grass abundant ; thence there
is sand in places; crosses several arroyas. Camp is
between two mountains. Wood, water, and grass
abundant.
12. Grand River. — Road is over a rolling country; in places
light sand and heavy for wagons. Good camp.
13. Grand River. — Road is rolling and sandy. The Mormon
road runs nearer the mountains, and Colonel Loring
thinks it is better than the one he traveled. Good camp.
16|. 11^ mile from Grand River. — The first 3 miles is level,
then the road passes over a very elevated ridge, and
descends into the valley. Grand River runs through a
canon, and can not be reached with the animals.
Road in places sandy. Good camp.
9i. Grand River. — At two miles strike Salt Creek, where the
Mormon road passes up a dry creek toward Gray
Mountain. Road skirts the mountains along Grand
River, and is rough in places, passing over abnipt
hills. Good camp.
346 CAMP FLOYD TO FORT UNION-.
MUes.
16|. Grand River. — Road runs over a level and firm section,
with good camps at any point along the river. Cross
the Mormon and other trails. Good ford at the cross-
ing except in high water. Good camp.
18i. On an Arroya. — Road runs over an undulating surface,
crossing several small streams issuing from Elk Mount-
ain, affording good camps at almost any place, and
strikes Marcy's and Gunnison's trails. Good camp.
15|r. Grand River. — Rolling country; high ridges with abrupt
slopes for 6i miles ; thence into a plain for Ti miles
to Double Creek. Good camps.
12. Oncompagre River. — Good ford except in high water.
At 6 miles cross a dry creek; thence 3 miles over a
high, level, and firm road; strike a large trail; de-
scend a hill with gentle slope into the Valley of On-
compagre, where there are fine camps. Winter resort
for Ute Indians.
14^. Oncompagre River. — Road runs along the valley of the
Oncompagre, is good, and camps may be found at any
point, with plenty of wood, water, and grass.
13. Cedar Creek. — Road leaves the Oncompagre, and bears
to the east up Cedar Creek to the gap in the mount-
ains, 6 miles ; thence up the valley of Cedar Creek to
camp, where are wood, water, and grass. Tlie Gap is
the first opening in the mountains above the mouth of
the Oncompagre.
8|. Devil's Creek. — Road runs to the head of Cedar Creek,
over the divide, into the valley of Devil's Creek, and is
rough, with a steep descent. Camp is near a narrow
canon called Devil's Gate, with high perpendicular
bluffs. Good camp.
3. North Fork of Devil's Creek. — Road very rocky, and
worked by Colonel Loring. Marcy's and Gunnison's
trails pass here. Good camp.
7i. Cebola Creek. — Road passes over abrupt hills covered
with pine. Good camp.
5j. Ruidos Creek. — Road rough, with abrupt ascents and de-
scents. Fine creek 5 feet wide, and good camp.
13. Grand River. — Road rather smooth for the first 3 miles,
then rough and rocky, crossing several creeks, and de-
scending into the valley of the Grand or Eagle-tail
River, where is a good camp. Plenty of brook trout in
all the streams in this section.
CAMP FLOYD TO FORT UNIOI^. 34*7
Miles.
14^. Grand River. — Road crosses the river three times ; bot-
tom wide; grass and wood abundant. Cross several
beautiful streams, upon which are good camps. Some
sand and rough places, but generally good road. Game
and brook trout abundant in this region. Indians re-
sort to this section a great deal.
18. Cutebetope Creek.-:— At about 5 miles the Cutebetope
Creek enters, forming at the confluence a beautiful
valley, which the road crosses, and strikes the creek
near the Point of Rocks, where the valley is only 40
yards wide, but after passing the Point it opens again.
The course of the creek is nearly north. Good camjjs.
20. Spring near Beaver Creek. — Road crosses several small
creeks, where are good camping-places. Good camp.
16f. Sawatch Creek. — Road runs over a very rough and
mountainous section for 14 miles to the summit of the
Rocky Mountains ; thence it descends to camp, where
grass, wood, and water are abundant.
2H. Sawatch Creek. — Road rough and rocky in places;
strikes the main Sawatch Creek at 95^ miles ; crosses
numerous small branches, where are grass, wood, and
good water in abundance.
25-2-. Camero Creek. — Road for 7 miles, to Sawatch Buttes, is
good ; thence 1^ mile to the last crossing of the Sa-
watch, where is a good camping-place. Good camp at
Camero Creek.
82^. Garita Creek. — Good road and good camp.
16k- Rio Grande. — Road level and good. Good camps along
the river at almost any point.
6. Rio Grande. — Good road and camp.
17i. Fort Garland, Hay Camp. — Road continues down the
river, and is good. For six miles there is timber, but
after this willow is the only wood to camp. Good road.
Hay is cut at this place for Forts Massachusetts and
Garland.
16. Culebra Creek. — At 4f miles cross Trinchera Creek,
where is a good camp. Road rather sandy. Good
camps any where on Culebra Creek.
241 . Latos Creek. — Road tolerable to Costilla Creek, lOf miles.
Good camp.
14. Ascequia, near Lama Creek. — Road crosses several small
branches. At 9| miles strike Red River. Grass at
camp good, but not abundant.
348 CAMP FLOYD TO FORT UNION.
Miles.
19f. Meadow near Indian Puebla. — At 6 miles the road crosses
the San Christobal ; thence over another ridge into the
valley of the Kio Hondo. Camp 2 miles from Taos.
2. Taos, New Mexico. — Good road. At Taos are several
stores, where goods of all descriptions can be had at
fair prices.
13. Taos Creek Canon. — Eoad passes through the settlement,
where grain and vegetables can be obtained. It then
enters the Taos Canon at 3 miles, and crosses the Canon
Creek frequently to camp. Good camp.
29. Gaudelapepita. — At 5 miles the road ascends to the di-
viding ridge, and is tolerable ; thence in 4 miles cross
the mountain, and reach a fine spring branch, where is
a fine camp. Thence the road passes short ridges for 9
miles to Black Lake. Good camp.
Fort Union. — Road follows Coyote Cailon 3 miles ; thence
one mile to Mexican settlement ; thence 195^ miles over
the prairie to the fort.
Colonel Loring came over the route from Camp Floyd to
Fort Union with a large train of wagons. He, however, found
the road in many places upon the mountains very rough, and
it will require working before it will be suitable for general
travel with loaded wagons. It is an excellent route for sum-
mer travel with pack trains, and is well supplied with the requi-
sites for encamping.
From Fort Union to Fort Garland the road passes through a
settled country, where supplies of grain and vegetables can at
all times be purchased at reasonable prices, and there are small
towns met with during almost every day's march where small
shops supply such articles of merchandise as the traveler needs.
GUAYMAS TO TUBAC. 349
XXVIII. — Wagon-route from Guaymas^ Sonora^
Mexico^ to Tuhac^ Arizo?ia. From Captain
Stone's Journal.
Miles.
Guaymas to
lot. Rancho del Cavallo. — Good wood, water, and grass.
9. Rancho de la Noche Buena. — Good wood and grass, but
no water for animals in May and June.
19f . Eancho de la Cuneguinta. — Good wood, water, and grass
the year round ; water in tanks and wells.
15|. Rancho del Posito. — Good wood and grass the year
round; water for men at all times, and for animals
except in the months of May and June.
8. Rancho de la Palma. — Wood, water, and grass at all
times.
16|. Rancho de la Paza. — Good wood, water, and grass at all
seasons.
16. Hermosillo. — This is a town of 10,000 inhabitants, on
Sonora River, where all supplies may be procured.
13. Hacienda de Alamito. — Plenty of running water, wood,
grass, and grain.
8. Hacienda de la Labor. — Plenty of running water, grass,
and grain.
28. Rancho de Tabique. — Roughest part of the road, but not
difficult for wagons. Wood, water, and grass. From
Hermosillo to this place there is water at short inter-
vals along the road.
36. Rancho Querebabi, — Wood and grass ; water in tanks.
12. Barajita. — Small mining village. Bad water ; good
wood and grass.
13. Santa Ana. — Village on the River San Ignacio. Plenty
of wood, water, and grass.
12. LaMagdalena. — Thriving to^vn, where all supplies can be
procured.
5. San Ignacio. — Village on the river. Good wood, water,
and grass.
6|. Imuris. — Village on the river. Wood, water, and grass.
IH. Los Alisos Rancho. — Wood, water, and grass.
02. La Casita. — Wood, water, and grass.
3i. Cibuta. — Wood, water, and grass.
Hi. Agua Zarca. — Wood, water, and grass.
23i. Rancho de las Calabasas. — Wood, water, and grass.
13. Tubac. — Silver mines at this place.
Total distance from Guaymas to Tubac, 295 miles-
350 CITY OF EOCKS TO HONEY LAKE VALLEY.
Note. — During the months of July, August, and Septem-
ber, water will be found at almost any part of the road from
La Casita to Hermosillo. There is no lack of wood or grass
on any part of the road from Guaymas to the frontier. The
only difficulty in encamping at almost any point upon the
road is that of obtaining water in the dry season, i. e., from
February to the first of July. The remarks for each place
apply to the most unfavorable seasons.
XXIX. — Road from City of Rocks to Honey Lake
Yalley. Extract from F. W. Lander's Report.
Miles.
City of Rocks to
12.00. Granite Springs. — Around Granite Springs and north
of it, good grass and water ; the road to the top of
the mountain good, but great care has to be taken
going down to
6.76. Goose Creek. — Keep good watch here against Indians.
Goose Creek down are some good camping-places,
and Tip all
22.34:. Along Goose Creek grass and water is to be found.
At the head of Goose Creek a camp road leads to the
northwest, where a few springs furnish water, and a
large open place bottom-grass. Bunch-grass scarce.
12.12. Rock Spring. — Water good, but grass only for the first
emigration.
5.84. Cold Springs. — Deep wells with grass; bunch-grass on
the hills.
18.40. Hot Spring Creek (upper part of Thousand Spring Val-
ley).— About nine miles from Cold Spring is abun-
dant grass and a small spring close to the road ; the
other M'ater in sloughs contains alkali, and therefore
avoid using it. Hot Spring Creek, with its upper part,
has good water and grass. A few rocky places on
the dividing ridge to
14.90. Humboldt Wells. — Excellent water, good bottom and
bunch grass. A hot spring, some rocky places and
crossings in
4.00. Humboldt Canon. — From this place the road runs along
the river to Lassen's meadows ; leaves it sometimes
to avoid canons or soft bottoms; the grass is very
CITY OP EOCKS TO HONEY LAKE VALLEY. 351
Miles.
abundant; the running water good. But good care
has to be taken that animals do not drink out of
sloughs, which in the latter part of the season contain
much alkali. Mules and horses are sometimes sub-
ject to a peculiar disease, causing a swelling of
neck and breast ; the best preventive is to put rowels
through the breast and keep the wound open. Should
the animals show any symptoms of sweDing, burn with
an iron three or four scars, deep and long, along the
neck and breast, and keep these open with blistering
plaster. I was assured by many mountaineers that
this is a preventive and sure cure. The road good
to the
22.64. Crossing of Bishop's Creek. — Good crossing.
20.50. Crossing of north Fork of Humboldt River. — Gravel
bottom.
32.00. Fre'mont's Canon. — Gravel bottom, but rocks in the
river bed.
9.20. Maggie Creek. — Before crossing Maggie Creek, a small
stream has to be forded; both have grass and good
water. The road here leaves the bottom and passes
over the hills to Gravelly Ford. There are some
springs close to the road, and in the early part of the
season good and abundant grass. The road has
some rocky places and steep grades down to
19.30. Gravelly Ford. — Good grazing ground up and down the
river; the Humboldt runs about five miles farther
down through a canon, therefore the road goes
10.00. Over the hills.
20.00. Stony Point. — The road good ; Indians are always in
this neighborhood fishing and hunting, therefore keep
a good look' out.
38.00. Foot of hills on the Pah-Utah line. — Fine springs on the
hill side, with good grass ; the valley to the north is
covered with sage brush interspersed with scanty grass.
Before reaching the hills you pass some sloughs with
bad water. The road over
6.00. The hills is good. This is now the country of the
Pah-Utah Indians, a friendly tribe, seldom commit-
ting depredations.
17.00. Bend of the river on Tutts' Meadows. — At the bend a
small spring branch comes in ; the lower crossing is
sometimes muddy, the upper good.
352 PACIFIC WAGON-ROADS.
Miles.
44.00. Lassen's Meadows. — Abundant grass on the upper and
lower part. I advise all emigrants to rest here a few
days, to cut grass and take it along. Though water
may be had, grass in the latter part of the season is
dried up and scarce.
4.50. Through Lassen's Meadows. — Leave these meadows in
the afternoon, and camp on
12.00. Antelope Spring. — The water is very good, but grass
scarce. A good road over rolling hills to
15.75. Eabbit Hole Springs. — Water in wells for cooking pur-
poses, but cattle have to be watered with a bucket.
The road good to
18.50. Hot Springs on the eastern side of Mud Lake. — Ani-
mals may be watered here. A beautiful road over
the perfect level bottom of Mud Lake brings you to
13.75. Granite Springs. — Water good, and good grass in a ra-
vine northwest of the springs.
4.50. Boiling Spring. — Kemarkable for its temperature and
size.
7.25. Deep Hole Springs. — Good grass and excellent water.
16.00. Buffalo Springs. — Road good, water in holes, grass in
the neighborhood. Over rolling hills and bluff's we
strike
9.50. Kush Valley. — Upper part of Rush Valley contains good
water, most plenty of grass, and a few rocky places.
16.75. Through Rush Valley to Mart Springs. — Very rocky
after leaving Mud Springs; the lower part of the
road very good to
17.00. Honey Lake Valley.
XXX. — Itinerary of F. W. Lander's Road from
East Crossing of Sweet -water^ on Salt Lake
Road^ to City of Rocks.
Mile?.
3.50. From Gilbert's Station to Aspen Hut.— Good grass and
water. If the grass has been eaten off" by the Salt
Lake trains, go
2.20. To Long's Creek. — Here you have a good camp, the
grass on the hills being excellent. Willows on creek,
aspen or mountain cottonwood to left, pine timber to
left, crossing good gravel bottom.
PACIFIC WAGON-EOADS. 353
Miles.
2.23. From Long's Creek to Clover Creek. — Good grass and
water.
3. 14. From Clover Creek to Garnet Creek. — Good water and
fine grass; aspen timber. From this creek to the
Sweetwater it is a rolling country, with fine bunch-
grass. Pine timber as you approach the river.
4.95. From Garnet Creek to Sweetwater River crossing. — You
will find this a good camp. Fine grass and heavy
pine timber a short distance up the creek to right.
1.59. From the Sweetwater to crossing of Poor's Creek. — Ex-
cellent grass and fine timber to left of road. Good
camping-places all the way for nine miles, the road
following up the stream for that distance.
11.66. From Poor's Creek to Little Sandy Creek. — Good grass ;
abundance of pine timber. Four miles from crossing
the road descends into a large grass plain, called An-
telope Meadow. A great many antelope here. Camp
near the rocks, where you can have cedar for fuel.
5.33. From Little Sandy to Big Hole of Big Sandy. — A good
laying-up place. A large valley ; abundance of grass
and pine timber.
5.00. To crossing of Big Sandy. — Hard pitchy road. A steep
pitch to go down to the river.
8.15. From Big Sandy to Grass Spring. — No wood, but fine
grass and water ; abundance of sage for fuel.
18.56. From Grass Spring to new Fork of Green River. — This
distance can be shortened by striking toward a clump
of timber to the right and finding good camping-
grounds ; then, by following down this stream to the
left a short distance, you strike the road at the cross-
ing, which is good. There is a large island in the
centre, and the stream on each side is from twenty to
thirty yards wide. In the spring it is from three to
four feet deep. You had better raise the beds of your
wagons. Timber on island and western bank.
5.51. From new Fork to Green River. — From this point you
can strike south, and in four miles come to Piney
Creek, with good grass, and plenty of timber for camps.
This, howcA^er, can only be done late in the season,
for in the spring it is marshy, and you had better keep
the beaten trail, on which you Avill find water and
grass enough even for laying up.
8.00. From Green River to White Clay Creek.- Alkali along
7
354 PACIFIC WAGON-EOADS.
Miles.
its banks, but clear running water in the bed of the
creek.
5.18. From White Clay Creek to Bitter-root Creek.— Good
grass ; large willows on its banks for fuel.
10.32. From Bitter-root Creek to north Fork of Piney.— Wil-
lows on banks ; one mile to left pine and cottonwood
timber.
3.00. To middle Fork of Piney Creek. — Good grass ; large
willows for fuel.
1.51. From middle Fork to mouth of Piney Canon. — Canon
from a quarter to one and a half mile wide.
7. 70. From mouth of canon to Piney Fort. — The road through
the caiion crosses the creek eight different times ; all
the crossings, however, are good. You will find sev-
eral camping-spots in the canon between its mouth
and Piney Fort; you had better lay over at Piney
Fort, as you have excellent grass, and a block-house,
with coiTal attached. The country for thirty miles
beyond is thickly timbered, wiiich will render it nec-
essary for you to keep careful watch of your stock.
You should move as rapidly as possible over to Salt
River. After leaving Piney Fort the road passes over
a ridge and crosses a small creek within half a mile ;
thence crosses mountain
5.19. To Labarge Creek. — Road follows up creek for half a
mile, crosses and passes along low ridge for a short
distance, when it strikes the
2.55. Crossing of small creek in valley.
• .43. To crossing of another small creek. — Good grass.
1.39. To crossing of Spring Branch in valley. — Inclosed by
high ridges. After crossing another small creek, road
enters
.89. Labarge Valley. — Good grass on hill to right.
1.81. To junction of Labarge and Spring Creek. — Road from
this point lies over a mountainous country.
2.57. From Spring Creek to first branch of Smith's Fork of
Bear River. — You travel along this stream for one and
three fourths of a mile. Good grass in timber.
7.41 To Smith's Fork of Bear River. — Valley narrow ; thick
growth of willows half a mile up this stream to right
from where the I'oad strikes it and farther. You will
find good grass on the hills and in the valley. Road
follows down Smith's Fork and crosses
PACIFIC WAGON-EOADS. 355
Miles.
2.04. Little Beaver Creek.
1.88. From Little Beaver Creek to spring near the top of the
mountain. — Before reaching this point you pass
through a small body of aspen timber. Be careful
here to keep good watch of your stock, as this timber
is very thick with Indian trails running north and
south, upon which your stock is apt to stray, and you
will not be able to recover them. You are now leav-
ing the friendly Indians and reaching the Pannack
country. Treat them kindly, or you may have some
trouble. Road ascends hill for one fourth of a mile,
then descends gradually. From here to old road
grass is very abundant in all valleys.
3.91. To Salt River Valley.— Good grass.
1.04. To crossing of creek. — Gravel bottom ; road follows up
valley
2.50. To crossing of Small Spring Creek.— Valley widens,
and is covered with excellent grass.
5.95. To Salt River crossing. — Half a mile northeast of cross-
ing, Janvier's Fork of Salt River, coming in from
the right, unites with the main stream.
4.83. Towestbranch of Salt River. — Good grass. Valley at this
point about four miles wide ; road runs along valley.
6.47. To Smoky Creek (mouth of canon). — Road crosses creek
and enters canon, which is one and a fourth mile long.
2.00. To Red Willow Creek. — You will find good grass in
the bottom.
3.00. To Salt Bottom. — Surface of ground in many places
white with pure and excellent salt. A good laying-
up place to salt your stock. Water clear and fresh ;
grass very fine. Here the road leaves valley and as-
cends bench, crossing several spring branches, keep-
ing, however, the general direction of the valley.
4.00. To Kinni-Kinnik Creek Caiion. — Canon one mile long;
cross creek twice. After crossing seven spring branch-
es and two small creeks you come
3.08. To Noon Creek. — You then cross two spring branches
and come
2.43. To Flat Valley Creek.— Large valley of fine grass.
1.75. Crossing of another creek. — Good grass all the way
2.23. To large Grass Valley, in which is a lake several miles
long. You travel up valley, on edge of lake, crossing
two sloughs. At end of valley you come
356 PACIFIC WAGON-ROADS.
Miles.
10.27. To a creek, which is a branch of Otter Spring Creek.
— Fine grass.
1.38. To Otter Spring Creek. — Good grass.
7.85. To spring in valley. — Water brackish ; good grass.
.87. To branch of Blackfoot. — Good grass.
1.85. To Blackfoot River. — Crossing good ; fine grass. You
leave river here to right.
3.53. To Granite Creek. — Good grass ; willows on creek.
1.30. To crossing of creek.
4.79. To point Avhere road leaves Blackfoot Eiver. •
1.82. To Thistle Creek. — One mile to right a small grove of
aspen timber; grass good. Road crosses two small
creeks.
4.89. To head of Portneuf River. — Aspen grove and good
grass at crossing.
1.24. To road from Soda Springs.
1.12. To entrance of canon. — Spring branch runs through
this canon, which is three fourths of a mile long ;
grass good.
.89. To small stream coming in from the left.
9.75. To two small streams emptying into Ross's Fork. — Fine
grass.
. 94 . To Emigrant Road. — Thence follow old Emigrant Road,
and in one eighth of a mile cross a small branch.
Road level.
1.47. To Ross's Creek. — Cross creek and enter canon, which
is about one and a half mile long.
11.18. To Snake River Valley and fork of roads. — You take
right-hand road to Fort Hall, and the left to bridge
on Ross's Fork. The latter is the main or short road.
2.38. To bridge on Ross's Fork. — Good grass. Road good.
8.00. To bridge on Portn»uf River. — Fort Hall is in sight
from this point, Portneuf Mountains to left. Fine
grass, but little timber in valley.
.23. To stream in Portneuf Valley.
.42. To slough in Portneuf Valley.
.60. To road from Fort Hall.
3.15. To Fort Hall and Salt Lake Road. — Road from bridge
on Ross's Fork lies over a very level country, some-
times in valleys, but principally on bench land. Wil-
lows and grass on creek.
G.50. To Pannack River. — Good grass.
4.36. To Irvin's old fort.
PACIFIC WAGON-EOADS. 35^
Miles.
6.99. To Big Spring. — At all the above points you touch
Snake River. This spring is about thirty feet in
breadth, and is formed of innumerable small ones.
1.93. To American falls of Snake River. — ^You keep along
river, and one mile on cross a steep ravine. Timber.
3.33. To crossing of creek.
1.G6. To crossing of creek.
.83. To ravine. — Rocky island opposite mouth of ravine.
Fine grass ; some pine timber. Within the next three
miles you cross three ravines with timber and grass.
5.79. To crossing of creek. — Timber and grass. You cross a
ravine in half a mile.
2.91. To Fall Creek. — Steep bank on west side. Timber and
grass.
2.03. Leaving Snake River bottom to right.
6.16. To Raft Creek crossing. — Good grass; willows for fuel.
3. 60. To second crossing of Raft Creek. — Good grass.
11.11. To third crossing of Raft Creek. — Good grass.
8.81. To forks of road. — Junction of this road and Hudspeth's
Cut-off.
3.50. To crossing of small stream. — Road crosses two small
streams within the next half mile.
2.84. To Fork of Raft Creek. — Good grass; willows for fuel.
10.74. To crossing of creek. — Good grass; no timber.
2,00. To crossing of small creek.
2.33. To entrance of rocky canon. — Canon three fourths of
a mile long.
1.23. To City Rocks. — Good grass and camp-ground on
small spring branch. Thence the .usual route to Cal-
ifornia.
XXXI. — Field-notes of the Location of the Fort
Midgeley and South Pass Wag 07i-road^ from the
Missouri River to Fort Bidgeley ; Sam. A. Med-
ARY, Engineer,
Miles.
.985. High bluffs overlooking the Missouri River; country
rolling.
.739. Ravine to the Missouri.
1.922. Country level.
358 PACIFIC WAGON-EOADS.
Miles.
,705. Country level.
1.022. Descent to the valley of Beaver Dam Creek; course
west to the Missouri, and distant 4 miles. Good
wood, water, and grass. Day's travel, 14.054 miles.
Erected 60 mounds. Sept. 1, 1857.
.570. Ascent from the valley to high prairie.
.809. Country level, and range of ravines to the left.
2.364. Country level to blulFs overlooking Fort Look-out.
.671. Country rolling.
1.097. Summit of coteau between Beaver Creek and Crow
Creek.
.604. Rolling prairie.
.065. Do.
.194. Deep ravine.
.614. Summit of coteau, etc.
.811. Commence descent to Crow Creek.
1.378. Sept. 2, camped on Crow Creek. Good wood, water,
and grass. Day's travel, 11.082 miles. Erected 33
mounds.
.234. Descent of bluffs to Crow Creek.
.273. Camp on south side Crow Creek; two creeks emptying
into creek on opposite side ; well wooded ; good tim-
ber on this creek to its mouth. Day's travel, 4.174
miles. Erected 19 mounds. Sept. 3, retraced line
to Station 27 for higher ground, the valley of the
creek being soft land.
.322. Country level.
2.812. Low prairie.
1.144. Cross valley of Crow Creek.
.731. Quantities of cactus, and a large prairie dog village.
.653. Descent into valley leading to Crow Creek.
.278. Camped Sept. 4. Water and grass. Distance, 10.24?
miles ; 52 mounds.
.299. Country rolling.
1.334. Country level.
1.740. Large stone mound.
.520. Small lake, Sept. 5.
.819. Same. Distance, 17.588 miles; 78 mounds; 2 miles
beyond, good water, wood, and grass.
.297. September 6th.
.280. Country rolling.
.417. Top of bluffs.
.177. Sept. 6, camped at foot of bluffs. Good wood and
PACIFIC WAGON-ROADS. 359
Miles.
spring. Easy ascent to summit. Distance, 1.709
miles. Mounds, 22.
.692. Foot of slope of the bluffs.
.622. Ascent to coteau of the James.
2.205. Level prairie.
2.521. Small shallow lake to-night.
2.619. Crossing of Sand Hill Creek.
4.112. Rolling prairie.
1.037. Top of bluff of James River.
.164. Foot of bluffs, and high-water mark of the James.
284. Camp on James River; 82 feet wide; from tops of
banks, 123 feet. Distance, 23 miles. Mounds, 98.
Sept. 8, 1857.
.299. Camp on east bank, Sept. 14.
.229. Top of bluffs.
.567. Rolling prairie and marshes now dry.
11.288. High level prairie.
.372, Crossed Morse's Creek.
1.480. Sept. 14, camped on Wolf Creek, 15 feet wide; good
grass and water. Distance, 18.926 miles; 80
mounds.
.900. Country level.
1.810. Lake Thompson to the left.
.465. Crossed inlet of Lake Thompson,
.315. Rolling country.
.686. Do.
.097. Rolling ; small country lake.
1.087. Marshy land.
.875. Indian fortifications and small lake.
1 .427. Camped on Lizard Lake ; no wood ; water bad. Dis-
tance, 18.967 miles ; 92 mounds. September 15.
.216. Country undulating and filled with small lakes.
1.415. One mile north lake with timber.
.366. Small lake to-night.
1.540. Level country.
.372. Willow Lake.
.577. Small lake.
1.170. Small lakes. ^ ,
.195. Camped on Perrine Creek; good water, grass, and
wood. Distance, 18.038 miles ; 125 mounds. Sep-
tember 16.
.600, Crossed small stream.
.395. Small lake.
360 PACIFIC WAGON-KOADS.
MilC3.
1.908. Sept. 17, camped on west bank of Big Sioux Eiver, 63
feet wide ; good wood, water, and grass. Distance,
5-j^ miles ; 20 mounds.
.039. Crossing of the Sioux.
.999. Bottom between Sioux and Medary Creek.
.705. Bottom of Medary Creek.
1.313. High prairie.
.687. Do.
.827. Do.
.540. Do.
2.448. Do.
1.925. Do.
.530. Do.
.453. Do.
.962. Do.
.570. Do.
.432. Do.
.830. Do.
1.307. Watering-place, branch of Medary Creek.
.268. Crossing of small creek running southwesterly.
.669. Camp at "Hole-in-the-Mountain;" good wood, wa-
ter, and grass. Distance, 23.553 miles ; 100 mounds.
Sept. 19.
.202. Descent of the mountain pass.
.299. Crossing the mountain pass.
.372. Hills.
.889. Small creek leading to Lake Benton.
.326. Marsh to the left.
.289. Indian village Grizzly.
.965. Bear's pound.
.967. Fine growth of oak timber.
1.220. Lakes on both sides.
.713. North is Cottonwood Lake.
.590. Lake, with timber ; three lakes to the right.
.502. Crossing of Redwood Eiver, and camped on east bank;
wood, water, and grass in abundance. Distance,
20.174 miles.
.465. Marshy lands and lakes.
.685. Lakes, with timber.
.309. Lakes near the line, to left.
.227. Rolling country.
.494. Do.
.939. Do.
PACIFIC WAGON-EOADS. 361
Miles.
.772. Rolling country.
.315. Do.
1.498. Creek, head of Cottonwood.
.487. Do. do.
.408. Country rolling, and small grassy lakes.
.551. Do. do.
1.165. Do. do.
.614. Do. do.
.650. Crossing Cottonwood River ; camp at Big Wood of the
Cottonwood; fine timber, water, and grass. Dis-
tance, 12.124 miles. September 22.
15.407. This course crosses three good watering-places and
Plum Creek, a branch of the Cottonwood ; camp at
lower crossings of Cottonwood River. Distance,
18.551 miles.
. 299. Rolling country, with lakes and marshes.
.986. Do. do.
1.823. Do. do.
2.435. Do. do.
1.628. Small creek.
1.587. Crossing of mouth of Cottonwood River; water and
grass. Distance, 19.446 miles.
1.178. Intersection of government trail from Eort Randall to
Fort Ridgeley via Sioux agency.
.943. Grassy lakes and marshes extending to Redwood
River.
.260. Top of bluff of Minnesota River ; descent 150 feet.
.780. Bottom bordering on the Minnesota River, with heavy
timber; course ends at Fort Ridgeley rope ferry;
river is 150 feet wide, with good banks.
.465. To Fort Ridgeley and intersection of government road
to Fort Snelling via Traverse de Sioux and Shaka-
pee.
Total distance from Fort Ridgeley to Missouri River,
254.797 miles.
362 CAMP FLOYD TO LOS ANGELES.
XXXII. — Road from Camp Floyd^ Utah^ to Los
Angeles^ California, From Major F. J. Por-
ter's Itinerary.
Miles.
From Camp Floyd, U. T.,
22.2. To Goshen. — Road good, except in very wet weather.
On Lake Utah, 13 miles, good camps for small parties,
though shore boggy ; at Webb's, 16 miles, good camp,
except for grass, which is distant on the lake shore 2
miles ; no wood ; sage for fuel. Fuel and forage pur-
chasable at Goshen.
21.6. To Nephi, via road leading to Summit City (a shorter
and good road (18 miles), over a mountain spur to Salt
Creek, is passable for wagons only when the marshes on
Salt Creek are frozen). — Road excellent. In summer,
good camps on Salt Creek and at the two mud cor-
rals (springs). Abundance of water on the march;
fuel must be taken from the hills about 5 miles from
Goshen. Fuel and forage can be purchased.
30.0. To Sevier River. — Good road. Pass Chicken Creek (18
miles), where are excellent camp-grounds. Some of
the springs are bad for cattle, and boggy. Fuel and
grass on the river.
25.0. To Cedar Spring or Buttermilk Fort. — Road good in
dry weather. 10 miles from Sevier Rivei', a small
stream, dry in summer, crosses the road. Roads
branch off east to water (good camp) 4 miles up the
stream. Take in fuel a few miles from fort; grass
and water abundant ; forage purchasable.
21.0. To Corn Creek. — Pass within 7 miles Pioneer Creek
and another small stream, generally dry in midsum-
mer. Fillmore City (10 miles from Buttermilk Fort) :
fuel and forage jierhaps purchasable ; not a good rest-
ing-place ; also Meadow Creek, 7 miles beyond, where
good grass will be found near the willows ; fuel and
forage purchasable. At Corn Creek settlement good
grass near willows, and forage purchasable. The In-
dian farm (Kanosh's band) is located 4 miles east.
Emigrants should not camp close to the willows here
and at Meadow Creek, and should have a watchful
guard over their animals : to the Indians are attributed
ail losses. Road good, except in wet weather, when
the meadows between Meadow and Corn Creeks may
CAMP FLOYD TO LOS ANGELES. 363
Miles,
be impassable, in which case the road passes near the
Indian farm.
21.00. To Cove Creek. — Road undulating, but good; no wa-
ter on the route ; good grass, fuel, and water up the
creek (east) about 2 miles ; grass on hills.
"27.00. To Beaver City. — Pass Pine Creek, 8 miles, and In-
dian Creek, 20 miles, both furnishing good camps.
When Beaver Creek is swollen from melting snows,
the road passes about 4 miles east of the city, at
other times through it. Forage can be purchased
here ; good road.
20.00. To Elk Horn Springs.— Pass Snow Creek (12 miles), on
which, when running (dry late in summer), are good
camps. Good camp, though water may be alkaline
in summer ; fuel sage ; road good.
21.50. To Summit (jreek. — Road good. Pass a small creek,
10 miles; grass and water. Red Fort, 12|- miles.
Parowan, 17|- miles: tolerable camps only ; better one
mile beyond, at spring east of road, at base of hill ;
grass and fuel on hills ; fuel and forage in any quan-
tity purchasable at Parowan. At Summit Creek,
grass, water, and sage.
31.54. To Warm Springs or Little Pynte. — Pass Johnson's
Settlement (4 or 5 houses) west of road, 4 miles from
camp; good camp-ground. Cedar City (13.34 miles),
nearly deserted ; bad camp ; forage, in small quanti-
ty, probably purchasable, but not to be relied upon.
At the south end of the field the road forks; the
southern branch leads to Harmony and Santa Clara,
the western is the main road, and passes through the
Mountain Meadows. From Cedar (jity, first 6 or 8
miles through alkaline plain, a small ravine, contain-
ing Leech's Spring, left of road (water for a small
party only), and a small valley with water south of
road. Road undulating and good. The water at
the springs is Avarm and not good ; grass and wood
abundant for as large parties as will travel this route.
34.00. To Santa Clara.— Pass Big Pynte (6 miles), a small
stream and settlement of 6 or 8 houses; tolerable
camp for a small party ; a little forage probably pro-
curable ; Mountain Meadows (12 miles) ; Hamblin's
Ranch, left of road (11 miles), one mile beyond which
is the scene of the massacre of 1857, and a good
364 CAMP FLOYD TO LOS ANGELES.
Miles.
camp-ground. Six miles from this camp take road
to left, to avoid crossing a lofty hill-road, and turn to
the right, and descend some 2000 feet to the Santa
Clara. Pass several small tributaries of Santa Clara.
Good camp 2 miles below first point of striking river.
Cross stream 13 times (careful driving), and camp
below, where road leaves the Santa Clara ; a narrow
pass for pack animals leading to Hamblin's Fort on
Santa Clara, Washington, Harmony, etc. The grass
is usually so abundant at the Mountain Meadows that
trains generally recruit here several days. All per-
sons should be on their guard against Indians. Hence
to Cajon Pass they are impudent and treacherous to
Americans.
27.31. To Cottonwood Creek (Beaver Dams). — Pass springs
(1\ miles). Lower springs good ; also the upper when
the water is running freely ; at other times the latter
are alkaline, and injurious to animals. Water at lower
springs for small party ; grass ; sage for fuel. Road
to Cottonwood good, occasionally sandy and rocky.
No grass at Cottonwood except in the thick cane;
willow and Cottonwood are substitutes for horses and
mules.
30.00. To last crossing of the Virgin. — The ascent from the
valley of the Cottonwood is very heavy, on account
of sand, as is the road during the whole distance.
Road crosses the river 14 times, and skirts it nearly
all the way : 1st crossing about 6 miles from Cotton-
wood; 2d, 2 miles beyond; 3d and 4th follow in
quick succession ; 5th and 6th, about 1 mile beyond ;
7th, about 8 miles from the 6th; 8th, 2 miles be-
yond; 9th, 6 miles farther; 10th, 2f, followed with-
in 2i miles by the 11th, 12th, 13th, and 14th. Cross-
ings good. The 1st, 8th, and 14th crossings furnish
good camp-grounds for some hundred animals, and
in many places along the road small parties will find
sufficient grass. Beyond the last crossing about 1
mile the road touches the river for the last time, and
turns off" to ascend to the bench land on which the
road to the Muddy lies. All trains should reach this
point and camp one night before attempting to leave
the valley. Good camps can be made about 1 mile
down the river.
CAMP FLOYD TO LOS ANGELES. 365
Miles.
18.75. To Muddy. — Ascend for 1 mile a veiy steep and diffi-
cult hill, too steep for loaded teams. Sometimes the
Indians on the Virgin collect here to pack on their
backs, for small compensation (flour, tobacco, old
clothes, etc.), the loads of wagons. To the hill de-
scending into the valley (14 miles) of the Muddy the
road is very stony and rocky ; thence it is of heavy
sand to within a mile of the Muddy, where the ground
becomes boggy. Fuel, and grass, and water below,
where the road touches the river. Good camp.
51.32. To Vegas (deserted Mormon settlement). — This jour-
ney is generally made at nights, parties canying wa-
ter for their animals, and resting a few hours on the
desert. Up the Muddy about 2 miles (crossing three
sloughs, which require care, and which it would be
well to bridge with willows or mesquite), to the cross-
ing, where the banks furnish a good camp for wood,
water, and grass. Leaving the river, the road winds
up a ravine some 6 miles : it is either very heavy with
sand or gravel, or very stony. Except occasional stony
parts, and a few miles of sand about the middle of
the journey, the remainder of the road is very good.
Good camp-ground adjacent the walls: fuel, grass,
and water (running) abundant for a large train. If
requiring rest, this is a good (the only) point to re-
cruit animals before attempting the desert.
29.50. To Mountain Springs. — Ascend the Vegas 3 miles.
Some good camps. Road to Cottonwood Spring (19
miles) and beyond is sandy, rocky, hilly, and heavy
for loaded teams ; water abundant, and grass enough
for a small party. About 2 miles beyond is good
grazing, and water may sometimes be obtained by
digging on the left of the road; fuel. No grass at
Mountain Springs ; sage and greasewood only as sub-
stitutes ; wood abundant. If the number of animals
in the train exceed fifty, it will be well to send for-
ward and build dams to collect the water. The
spring is immediately on the road.
43.25. To Kingston's (King's) Springs. — 7 miles from Mount-
ain Springs the road to Bitter Springs via Resting
Springs branches to the right. It is more sandy than
the left-hand road, though shorter, and the distances
between water are not so great. It is rarely travel-
366 CAMP FLOYD TO LOS ANGELES.
Miles.
ed. To this point, and 3 miles farther, the road Is
excellent; then alternately stony, rocky, and very
sandy for 14 miles to the divide, beyond which for 12
miles it runs along the bed of a dry creek (sandy and
gravelly), till at a prominent point of a hill on the
left, when a branch continues for half a mile to a
small well, sometimes called Cowdry's Hole, a toler-
able camping-place for small parties. The main road
turns short to the left, and, passing over a few hills
(2i miles), strikes King's Springs. No grass to be
relied upon, and fuel scarce. The cold springs {salt)
are very injurious to 7nan and beast. The warm
springs (running water) are wholesome. Animals
should not be turned loose to drink where they wish.
41.00. To Bitter Springs. — For 9 miles the road is descending
and very stony ; at times sandy. It passes over a se-
ries of mountain spurs, and passes, and sandy val-
leys. A few miles from the springs is a white clay
bar, along which the road winds, sending off tracks
to camps at water-holes (salt). The road is firm and
good for the last 12 miles. The springs are on both
sides of the road ; some wholesome, while others are
very injurious on account of alkali. A pint ofjlour
stirred into every bucketful of this kind of water coun-
teracts the injurious effects of the alkali upon animals.
No grass to be relied upon near the springs,
31. 12. To Mohave River. — The road branches at Bitter Springs.
The branch to the right strikes the Mohave (31.12
miles) 18 miles higher up than the other, and is a
better road, having less sand. No water on the road.
Where the other branch strikes the Mohave (14 miles)
will be found grass, wood, and water, and also at in-
tervals on the river, in the valley of which the road
continues for 75 miles. This road is very heavy, and
offers no inducement to travelers other than that wa-
ter and grass are abundant to recruit enfeebled ani-
mals. Distance 32 miles. Water in holes ; wood ;
grass very good, and abundant for a thousand ani-
mals.
52.13. To last crossing of Mohave. — Ascending the river, good
camps can be made at suitable intervals by digging
for water. Conspicuous places are the Fish Pond
(11^ miles), 2 miles west of Sugarloaf (an isolated
CAMP FLOYD TO LOS ANGELES. 367
Miles.
knob) ; Point of Rocks, 6 miles beyond — at each of
which will bo found wood and grass, and generally
water. Above the last the road strikes the river in
many places, and at all cottonwood groves will be
found good camp-grounds. When the road rises to
the bluff, or leaves the main bed of the river, travel-
ers must expect, before again seeing water or grass, to
pass over 4 to 10 miles of heavy sand. Tolerable good
camp-ground near Lane's Ranch, and immediately
beyond last crossing, near house. Grass in the wil-
lows. Hay may be purchased, and perhaps grain,
both of the American and Mormon competitors for
travelers' custom.
38.23. To Martin's Ranch. — About 8 miles from Mohave a
trail for pack-animals takes to the left, and dimin-
ishes the time of travel a few hours. About 18 miles
a road turns to the left and descends into the Cajon
Pass along a difficult, dangerous, and very steep
ridge (Hog's Back) : loaded wagons should not take
it ; a few miles only gained. About 4 miles beyond
where this road turns off, the road to Fort Tajon
takes to the right. By cai-rying water, travelers can
give their animals good grazing at several places on
the road. Summit of Cajon Pass, 23 miles from
Mohave ; grass in summer ; fuel ; no water ; road
good. Old house in Kanyon (8.66 miles) ; road
quite sandy, but all descent (wood, water, and some
little grass in season, but not to be relied upon).
Martin's Ranch (7.45 miles) ; road rocky and sandy ;
descending, crossing the stream several times : good
camps for small parties may be made on the stream.
Here and beyond one half mile will be found an ex-
cellent camp-ground. Water at Martin's Ranch.
25.53. To Mud Springs (Cinuguilla de San Jose). — First part
of road rocky; remainder good. At Cocamongo
(14.08 miles) wood, water, and grass (encamp on
creek above where first struck). Pass Smith's Ranch
(8 miles beyond) 2 miles, and take left-hand road to
camp ; wood, water, and grass.
28.42. To Los Angeles. — Road good; water and grass on the
route. To Old Mission, 18.32 miles; wood, water,
and grass. Hence to Los Angeles, 10.10 miles:
wood, water, and grass above the town.
368 CAMP FLOYD TO GENOA.
N.B. — The road through Harmony, Washington, ^Sawia Clara,
and Jacob's Tivist to the California road should never be taken
by wagons. It is hilly, in places very rocky, sandy, and bog-
gy. Jacob's Twist is a winding canon, with sides of solid
rock, and too narrow for wagons. No loaded vehicle should
enter it. There are no inducements to go this route other than
to avoid storms at the Mountain Meadows, as little or noth-
ing can be purchased at the few small miserable troglodyte set-
tlements through which it passes. It is a good winter route
for pack animals.
On account of Indians, travelers should, on the inarch, al-
ways be armed, and never separated into parties of one or two ;
always on the alert, and, when in camp, ready at every mo-
ment to seize and use their arms.
XXXIII. — Itinerary of the more southern Wag-
on-route of Captain J. H. Simpson, Topograph-
ical Engineers^ XI. jS. Army, from Camp Floyd,
II. T., to Ge7ioa, in Carson Vctlley, through the
Great Salt lake Basin, explored hy him in 1859,
under instructio7is from General A. S. Johnston,
commanding the Department of Utah.
Miles.
From Camp Floyd to
18i. Meadow Creek. — Sage wood, water, grass.
10. Junction with outward route in Gen. Johnston's Pass. —
Wood, grass.
1 1^. Brewer's Spring. — Wood, water, grass.
h\. Porter's Creek. — Wood, water, grass.
2t\. Prince's Creek. — Wood, water, grass.
16. Good Indian Spring. — Water collected in troughs ; wood,
grass.
141. Big Horn Spring. — Water sometimes by digging ; not re-
liable.
3i. Summit of range west of Big Horn Spring.
17. Tyler's Spring, Creek, and Canon. — Stock driven to creek
three fourths of a mile northwest of spring ; wood, wa-
ter, grass,
15|. Chapin's Spring, Creek, and Canon. — Animals driven to
creek 1 \ miles above ; wood, water, grass.
CAMP FLOYD TO GENOA. 369
Miles.
2^. Summit of House Range.
12i. Rush Pond. — Scarcely any thing more than a watering-
place ; sage wood, water, rushes.
20i. Plympton's Springs. — Several within a mile ; sage wood,
water, grass.
lOi. Crosman's Creek. — Willow, water, grass.
4. Rush Spring in Crosman Valley. — Sage wood, water,
grass.
5^. Cross Dry Branch. — ^Water running above ; wood, water.
21. Forks of Road. —Take right.
2f . Un-go-pah, or Red Springs. — Several also in vicinity ; wil-
low, water, grass.
7^. Summit of Tots-arrhor, high mountain range, generally
called Goshoot Moiintain.
2. Turnley's Springs and Caiion. — Wood, water, grass.
8. Springs in Antelope Valley. — Sage wood, water, grass.
12i. Water and grass reported half a mile to left of road, in a
branch canon.
li. Summit of Un-go-we-ah, or Pine Range.
2. Grass and water along creek for Si miles from spring. —
Wood, water, grass.
3i. Stephenson's Creek and Canon. — ^Wood, water, grass.
7i. Cross Stephenson's Creek. — Sage wood, water, grass.
si. Cross Murry's Creek. — Willow and sage wood, water,
grass.
5f . Gate of Hercules, to right of road, i mile. — ^Wood, water,
grass.
8i. Spring Canon. — Several springs within the compass of
half a mile. Wood, water, grass.
3. Summit of Mont-tim Range.
31-. Hurt's Spring and Canon. — Wood, water, grass.
12. Ute Pete's Spring and Canon. — Wood, water, grass.
1. Summit of Too-muntzor Black-head Range Spring. —
Wood, water, grass.
32^. Bluff Creek (18 miles saved by keeping in a southwest di-
rection across the valley to the mouth of Neill's Creek,
as indicated by the pointer in mid- valley. In this case
this camp not used). — Water sinks sometimes below
caiion. Sage wood, water, and grass.
8. Neill's Creek and Canon. — Wood, water, and grass.
1. Summit of We-a-bah range of mountains.
If. Grass and water along M'Carthy's Creek for 0^ miles.
Wood.
Aa
370 CAMP FLOYD TO GENOA.
Miles.
6^. Sink of McCarthy's Creek and Caiion. — Sage wood, wa-
ter, and grass.
lOiT. Lee's Springs. — Sage wood, water, and grass.
5i. Clay Creek. — Water in holes ; grass along creek above
and below ; sage wood.
62^. Fountain Springs. — About 2 acres of rush grass ; sage
wood and water.
1. Cross outward route.
2. Twin Springs. — Barr's Springs half a mile north ; grass in
vicinity sufficient for small parties ; sage wood and wa-
ter.
5. Join outward route.
li. Wons-in-dam-me, or Antelope Creek. — Wood, water, and
grass.
li- Leave outward route. — Take left hand.
3. Cross Saw-wid Creek. — ^Water running one mile above
the road ; grass in canon ; sage wood.
2^. Cross Dry Creek. — Water running one fourth mile above
the road ; grass in caiion ; sage wood.
12i-. Join outward route.
2j. Leave outward route. — Take left hand.
3. Water and grass found along Won-a-ho-no-pe Creek from
spring where road joins outward route. Wood, water,
and grass.
5j. Simpson's Park and Lake. — ^Wood, water, and grass.
5. Summit of Pe-er-re-eb, or high mountain range.
4:^. Leave outward road. — Take left hand.
5. Cross Keese's River. — Fuel to be brought; water and
grass,
i. Eeese's Eiver. — Fuel to be brought ; water and grass.
i. Junction with outward route.
17. Leave outward route. — Take right hand ; left-hand road 4
miles shorter, but more rugged over the Se-day-e, or
Look-out Mountain. Best early in the season for trains
going west, and always best for cattle-herds ; water
and grass at intervals of 2i, 10, 3, 3, 3, 7, 8 (total 36^)
miles to junction with more northern route.
3^. Kirby Smith's Creek, in Woodruff Valley.— Some grass
along creek, more at the mouth of canon ; sage wood
and water.
3i. Mouth of Kirby Smith's Creek.— Wood, water, and grass.
3. Road leaves Kirby Smith's Creek.— Wood, water, and
grass.
CAMP FLOYD TO GENOA. 371
Miles.
li. Summit of Pass of Se-day-e, or Look-out Mountain,
i. Grass and water for 7 miles along Edward Creek ; wood.
7. Edward Creek. — Willow and sage wood, water and grass.
Hi. Cold Springs in Dodge Valley. — Sage wood, water, and
grass.
9. Cross small branch and join outward route. — Water some-
times running, sometimes in holes.
1|. Middle Gate. — At times running water, at others got by
digging ; sage wood, water, and grass.
23i. Leave outward route. — Take left hand ; water by digging,
not palatable.
7f . Sulphur Spring. — Little or no grass in the vicinity ; wa-
ter scant.
2^. Very small warm spring. — Very little grass in vicinity.
6i. East shore of Carson Lake. — Fuel should be brought;
join outward route ; water, rushes.
4^. Leave Captain Simpson's outward road. — Take right
hand.
71. Leave Carson Lake. — Fuel brought; water, grass.
23|r. Carson River. — Road keeps in valley of Carson River,
with slight deviations, for 25 miles. Wood, water, and
grass can be found at convenient points ; wood, water,
25. Ford of Carson River, at Pleasant Grove, where route
joins old Humboldt River road, 18 miles; or ford near
China Town. — Wood, water, grass.
h China Town.
111. Carson City. — Sage wood, water, grass.
131^. Genoa. — ^Wood, water, grass.
Total distance, 568 miles ; or, regarding cut-off in Buell
Valley, 560 miles.
8/2 CAMP FLOYD TO GENOA.
XXXIV. — Itinerary of the more northern Wagon-
route of Capt. J. H. Simpson, from Camp Floyd
to junction with the n^ore southern route to Ge-
Qioa^ in Carson Valley^ Utah Territory. This is
the present California Mail a7id Pony Express
route.
Miles.
From Camp Floyd to
18.2. Meadow Creek. — Cedar fuel brought from vicinity of
Camp Floyd Pass ; wood, water, grass.
9.9. Spring one eighth of mile to right of Pass. — This spring
furnishes but little water even in the spring, and in the
summer would be most probably dry ; water, wood,
grass.
16.2. Simpson's Spring. — Wood on slope of mountain, at rath-
er inconvenient distance ; greasewood in abundance ;
water not abundant ; grass.
43.1. Devil's Hole. — "Water slightly brackish.
5.4. Fish Springs, Mail Station. — Greasewood fuel; grass in
tolerable quantity on side of mountain.
3.4. Warm Springs. — Old mail station ; greasewood, water,
grass.
28.8. Sulphur Springs. — ^Water in abundance, and palatable to
man and beast ; grass abundant ; willow and sage.
13.4. Spring in Pleasant Valley. — Wood, water, grass.
12.5, East side of Antelope Valley. — Short distance up ravine,
wood, water, grass in abundance.
19.0. Spring Valley. — Abundance of water and salt grass ; lit-
tle good grass on east side of valley; an abundance on
bench and slope of west side of the valley ; grease-
wood convenient ; cedar on slopes of hills.
3.5. Crossing of marsh in Spring Valley. — Here road takes
up a fine mountain stream ; grass and wood all along
creek ; fine from one mile above Spring Valley.
3.5 Road leaves creek. — Wood, water, grass.
2.8. Spring in ravine, from which issues a copious stream. —
Fine grass in this ravine ; wood.
1.3. Mail Station on east slope of Steptoe Valley.— Fine grass
in vicinity ; wood, water.
6.5. Steptoe Creek. — Dry in summer; greasewood and grass.
6.8. Mouth of Egan Canon. — Fine stream comes down; fine
grass on the side hills; wood and water.
CAMP FLOYD TO GENOA. 373
Miles.
1.9. Spring, source of Egan Creek. — About half a mile below
summit of divide between StejDtoc Valley and Eound
Prairie. Wood, water, and grass.
16.2. West side of Butte Valley. — A very small dug well high
up the hill, barely sufficient for cooking purposes, not
sufficient for the animals of a command; grass 1^
miles northeast from mail station, up a side hill.
This station since changed to water, it is said, in vicin-
ity ; wood and grass.
12.0. One mile below summit, west side, in ravine, descending
to Ruby Valley, plenty of grass. — Spring can be made
available for large command ; wood.
9.2. Ruby Valley. — Cedars and grass on west side of valley
three miles off; greasewood fuel ; fine spring.
14.4. Huntingdon's Creek, south fork of Humboldt. — Rapid
stream, six feet wide, half foot deep.
3.3. Small mountain stream, west side of valley of south fork
of Humboldt or Huntingdon's Creek. — Fine grass to-
ward the mountain, and greasewood.
1.2. Spring right of road. — Sage wood and grass.
5.8. Near west foot of Cho-kup's Pass. — Splendid and abun-
dant grass, sage wood, and water.
7.8. Spring in mid Pah-hun-nupe Valley. — Sage wood, wa-
ter, and grass.
5.6. Spring west side of Pah-hun-nupe Valley. — Water slight-
ly sulphurous, but not unpalatable; marsh grass, some
of bunch kind, not abundant, in canon northwest of
camp ; greasewood.
14.9. She-o-wi-teor Willow Creek, in Kobah Valley. — Rapid,
four feet wide, one foot deep ; has some willows upon it.
Sage fuel; cedar in the mountains (some ten miles
saved by taking a southwest direction from this camp
to water and grass at base of mountain range, some
twenty-two miles off) ; sage wood.
16.5. Junction with Capt. Simpson's outward route, which is
practicable for wagons.
2.0. Twin Springs. — Barr's Springs half mile north ; grass in
vicinity sufficient for small parties ; sage wood, water.
From this point follow Capt. Simpson's more south-
ern route, according to Itinerary No. XXXIII., which
will make the total distance by this route, from Camp
Floyd to Genoa, 583i miles ; and if the Southern Pass,
throixgh the Se-day-e or Look-out Mountain is taken,
the total distance will be 529.} miles.
APPENDIX.
APPENDIX.
A. Portable Boat.
A BOAT has been invented by Colonel E. C, Buchanan, of
the army, which has been used in several expeditions in Ore-
gon and in Washington Territory, and has been highly com-
mended by several experienced officers who have had the op-
portunity of giving its merits a practical service test.
It consists of an exceedingly light framework of thin and
narrow boards, in lengths suitable for packing, connected by
hinges, the different sections folding into so small a compass as
to be conveniently carried upon mules. The frame is covered
with a sheet of stout cotton canvas, or duck, secured to the
gunwales with a cord running diagonally back and forth
through eyelet-holes in the upper edge.
When first placed in the water the boat leaks a little, but
the canvas soon swells so as to make it sufficiently tight for all
practical purposes. The great advantage to be derived from
the use of this boat is, that it is so compact and portable as to
be admirably adapted to the requirements of campaigning in a
country where the streams are liable to rise above a fording
stage, and where the allowance of transportation is small.
It may be put together or taken apart and packed in a very
few minutes, and one mule suffices to transport a boat, with all
its appurtenances, capable of sustaining ten men.
Should the canvas become torn, it is easily repaired by put-
ting on a patch, and it does not rot or crack like India-rubber
or gutta-percha ; moreover, it is not affected by changes of cli-
mate or temperature.
378 APPENDIX.
B. Winter Traveling.
In traveling through deep snow, horses will be found much
better than mules, as the latter soon become discouraged, lie
down, and refuse to put forth the least exertion, while the for-
mer will work as long as their strength holds out.
When the snow is dry, and not deeper than 2i feet, horses
in good condition will walk through it without much difficulty,
and throw aside the snow so as to open quite a track. If there
are several horses they should be changed frequently, as the
labor upon the leading one is veiy severe. When the snow is
deeper than 2^ feet, it becomes very difficult for animals to
wade through it, and they soon weary and give out. The best
plan, under such circumstances (and it is the one I adopted in
crossing the Kocky Mountains, where the snow was from two
to five feet upon the ground), is to place all the disposable men
in advance of the animals to break the track, requiring them to
alternate from front to rear at regular intervals of time. In
this manner a track is beaten over which animals pass with
comparative ease.
"VYlien the snow increases to about four feet, it is impossible
for the leading men to walk erect through it, and two or three
of them are compelled to crawl upon their hands and knees, all
being careful to place their hands and feet in the same holes
that have been made by those in advance. This packs the
snow so that it will sustain the others walking erect, and after
20 or 30 have passed it becomes sufficiently firm to bear up the
animals. This, of course, is an exceedingly laborious and slow
process, but it is the only alternative when a party finds itself
in the midst of very deep snows in a wilderness. Animals, in
walking over such a track as has been mentioned, will soon
acquire the habit of placing their feet in the holes that have
been made by the men ; and, indeed, if they lose the step or
miss the holes, they will fall down or sink to their bellies.
Early in the winter, when the snow first falls in the Kocky
APPENDIX. 379
Mountains, it is so light and dry that snow-shoes can not be
used to advantage. "We tried the experiment when we crossed
the mountains in December and January, but found it impos-
sible to walk upon them.
Should a party, in a country where the snow is deep, have
the misfortune to lose its animals by freezing, the journey can
not be continued for any great length of time without devising
some method of transporting subsistence besides that of carry-
ing it upon the backs of the men, as they are unable to break a
track through deep snow when loaded down in this way.
The following plan has suggested itself to me as being the
most feasible, and it is the one I resolved to adopt in the event
of losing our mules faster than we required them for subsistence
when we passed the Mountains.
Take willow, or other flexible rods, and make long sleds, less
in width than the track, securing the cross-pieces with raw-
hide thongs. Skin the animals, and cut the hides into pieces
to fit the bottom of the sleds, and make them fast, with the hair
on the upper side. Attach a raw-hide thong to the front for
drawing it, and it is complete. In a very cold climate the hide
soon freezes, becomes very solid, and slips easily over the snow.
The meat and other articles to be transported are then placed
upon the sled so as not to project over the sides, and lashed
firmly. Lieutenant Cresswell, who was detached from Captain
M'Clure's ship in the Arctic regions in 1853, says his men
dragged 200 pounds each upon sledges over the ice. They
could not, of course, pull as much over deep snow, but it is be-
lieved that they would have no difiiculty in transporting half
this amount, which would be sufficient to keep them from
starvation at least fifty days.
I am quite confident that a party of men who find them-
selves involved in deep snows, dependent solely upon their own
physical powers, and without beasts of burden, can prolong their
lives for a greater time, travel farther, and perform more labor
by adopting the foregoing suggestions than in any other way.
380 APPENDIX.
C. Indian Signals.
When Indians are pursued by a large force, and do not in-
tend to make resistance, they generally scatter as much as pos-
sible, in order to perplex and throw off those who follow their
trail, but they have an understanding where they are to rendez-
vous in advance. Sometimes, however, circumstances may
arise during a rapid flight making it necessary for them to
alter these plans, and turn their course in another direction.
When this happens, they are in the habit of leaving behind
them some well-understood signals to indicate to their friends
in the rear the change in their movements.
For instance, they will sometimes leave a stick or other object
to attract attention, and under this bury an arrow pointing in
the new direction they intend to take. They will then con-
tinue on for a time in the course they have been pursuing, until
they get upon hard ground, where it is difficult to see their
tracks, then gradually turn their course in the new direction.
D. India-ruhher Cloak.
An India-rubber cloak has been introduced, and can be pur-
chased in London, which strikes me as being one of the most
useful and convenient articles of camp equipage for a single
horseman or a small party going out into the prairies with a
limited allowance of transportation.
It consists of a sheet of India-rubber or gutta-percha cloth,
made into the form of a large cloak, in the centre of which is
an elliptical cylinder about eight inches in diameter, of the same
material, wrought into the fabric. When this cylinder is col-
lapsed the garment may be worn as a cloak, and aftbrds ample
protection to the rider and his horse against storms. It may
also be used in bivouac by stretching it out upon poles so as to
make a good shelter for one or two men ; but its greatest ad-
vantage consists in the fact that, when the cylinder is inflated,
APPENDIX.
381
and the sides of the cloak dra^vn up around, it will be found to
answer the purpose of a small boat, with sufficient buoyancy
and capacity to sustain and float with perfect safety the largest
man. The curvature of the cylinder is such that it serves as a
double keel, making the boat remarkably stanch when in the
water. The one I have seen was paddled three miles across a
lake with a man weighing 250 pounds upon it. It is an excel-
lent article for duck-hunting or fishing in the absence of other
boats, and, finally, it may be used as a bed, as when the cylin-
der is inflated it is very elastic and comfortable for this purpose.
When rolled up for transportation it occupies but a small com-
pass, and may be conveniently strapped behind a riding-saddle.
THE END.
APK.15.iS61.
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